Aces High
by CaptainAngel
Summary: AU! Seeley J. Booth is a lean, hard, athletic pilot. When his wingman, Hodgins turns in his wings, He is moved up in the standings and sent to the Aces High Naval Flying School. Booth struggles to be the best pilot, stepping on the toes of his other students and in a different way to Brennan, a civilian instructor to whom he is strongly attracted.


Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or Top Gun Enjoy!

Summary: Seeley J. Booth is a lean, hard, athletic pilot. When his wingman, Hodgins turns in his wings, He is moved up in the standings and sent to the Aces High Naval Flying School. Booth struggles to be the best pilot, stepping on the toes of his other students and in a different way to Brennan, a civilian instructor to whom he is strongly attracted.

Chapter 1: **The Duellists**

The Rain drives horizontal. The sea surges up, nearly to the flight deck of the Aircraft Carrier USS Delphinus Hawk. The carrier plunges, driving its bow into a wall of grey water. The deck pitches forward and back, rolls left to right, and yaws in a corkscrew motion. The entire 93,000 ton behemoth rises and falls in the Typhoon-Driven Swell. There's a roar. Silver wings flash by, a cockpit, fiery jet exhausts. A forty ton monster drops at 120 knots into an area the size of a tennis court in a Controlled Crash.

There's a shower of sparks, a screech of rubber and metal as the gear hits the deck. The hook catches the 3 wire and the F-14 Tomcat is slammed to a halt. It's the scariest thing you've ever seen, the most dangerous manoeuvre in aviation and just another day at the office for a Naval Aviator.

At the Flight Deck - The Landing Signal Officer Leans almost horizontal into the winds. He holds the pickle, controlling the landing lights and speaks into a mike. His calm, professional commands belie the extreme conditions. 'Power, Power...Don't Climb...Okay, Hold What You Got.'

As another tomcat flies over the ramp. It slams in. The pilot hits full power catches the wire, slams

to a stop, cuts his engines. At the Air Ops - Below Deck Lots of scopes and electronic gear. The Carrier Control Approach Officer watches a blip on radar, reaches for his mike key.

We float like gods, above the storm, above the cloud cover, looking down. From overhead, a probe slides into frame, then a graceful nose. The cockpit sides by, Pilot, then Radar Intercept Officer barely illuminated by the orange glow of their instruments. The fuselage gracefully swells to two enormous air intakes, then variable angle wings, swept back for high speed flight. Twin tailbooms cant outward, horizontal stabilizers make constant adjustments. Enormous twin jet exhaust ports glow red in the moonlight.

We become aware of wind whistle, jet engine sounds, radio static. The pilot, Hodgins, is calm, steady. The Radar Intercept Officer in the backseat, Wendell, is a wildman, always an edge of humour in his voice. A UHF transmission breaks in..

'Ghost Rider, This Is Strike... We Have Unknown Contact Inbound, Mustang. Your Vector Zero Nine Zero For Bogey.'

Almost immediately the rio picks up a target and responds.

'Contact 20 Left At 25, 900 Knots Closure.'

Hodgins' Wingman LT. Seeley Booth is the pilot, Booth. In flight suit and oxygen mask, we can only see his eyes. They are confident. In his mid-twenties, he is lean, hard, athletic...the archetype fighter pilot. His rear-seated is LTJG. Clark Edison; Clark.

'I'll i.d. Him; you hook 'em.' Booth peels off to right, to high cover position; 5 o'clock.

'Closing fast. Mustang, this is Ghost Rider one-one-seven. Contact One bogey, 090 at 15 miles, 900

Knots of closure.'

'Wendell Look for the trailer.' 'I don't see anything. Booth, you have a trailer?'

Booth's F-14, flying in combat spread, 1 mile abeam, higher.

'Negative, Hodgins. Looks like he's single.'

'Hang back and watch for him. Here comes...MiG one.'

Closing at 900 knots, The MiG is a speck, then a flash and a roar, a knife-edge pass at 300 feet. It rockets past his left wing tip and disappears. Hodgins kicks rudder, whips the stick, screams into a tight turning roll and dives after him. He slams the throttle forward to Zone 5 Afterburner.

Booth sees a second MiG drop from above onto Hodgins' tail. 'Bogey on your six. I'm on his.'

Booth swings after him, lights it. All four jets scream down in a power dive. They punch through cloud cover into the soup.

Hodgins is closing on the first MiG when a shocking Blipblipblipblip tone breaks into their headsets.

'I've got a six strobe. I think he's locked on us.'

'Wendell. It's a MiG 21. They don't have radar missiles!'

'Hodgins let's hope you're right!'

'Wendell what is he doing?'

'He's pissing me off!'

Hodgins swings mad gyrations, cutting back and forth across the front MiG's tailpipe, trying to break the lock-on. The tone grows more insistent.

'I can't shake him. Booth'

'Well what's MIG one doing?'

'Maintaining course. Straight for Mustang.'

'Stay with him.'

The tone grows steady, Blipblipblipblip. Wendell is alarmed.

'That's missile lock!'

'He better be kidding!'

'Lordy! Eyeball to Asshole. Hope nobody burps!'

'I'll lock on them, Hodgins.' to himself 'Gotcha covered, and doesn't anybody move.'

'I'm up here too, Booth.'

'Roger, Hodgins.' to himself and his RIO 'Okay boys, pull out with your hands up and nobody'll get hurt.'

In Hodgins' F-14 Up front, Hodgins checks his gun sight...He gets I.R. lock...

'We're locked on MiG ONE. Why doesn't he disengage?'

'These guys are getting on my nerves.' Finally, MiG one turns away.

'Ghost Rider to Mustang. Bandits turning away.' But Hodgins presses forward, and MiG TWO stays on his tail.

'Hodgins, break left. Try a high g roll underneath. Break out the bottom.'

Anger gives way to discipline. Hodgins' Tomcat breaks left, dives into dense cloud. MiG TWO still follows. 'He's still on you, Hodgins.' In the clouds Hodgins still hears the tone, Blipblipblipblip...

'I know. I know.' He rolls over into wild evasive manoeuvres, and finally breaks lock. The MiG breaks out of the cloud, looks around, startled. There is nothing, no F-14. He scans the sky frantically, while rolling the aircraft. Suddenly, he feels a presence. He looks straight up and there behind him. A few feet away, a tomcat slides into position canopy to canopy, an incredible feat of flying. Booth and Clark stare at him. Booth slides even closer, canopies nearly touching. The MiG pilot acknowledges them with a weak wave. Booth stares for a moment, and then flips him the bird. The MiG pushes negative G, hard down and away. He heads for the deck.

'He's running for it. Booth.'

'Ah, Clark, the thrill of victory and the agony of the defeat.'

'Speaking of feet, Booth, fuel's down to 4.0. We're gonna get them wet unless we find a Sonoco station.'

'Hodgins, this is Booth. I'm getting hungry, let's head for the barn. Hodgins, where are you?'

At the Delphinus Hawk Flight Deck – the LSO stands on the plunging deck, peering into the roaring night.

'Ghost Rider one-one-five, this is Mustang. Wx three hundred. One mile visibility with heavy rain fall. Final inbound bearing three-four-zero. Deck is moving.'

'This is crazy. How the hell we supposed to land on something we can't even see!'

'Hey, if it was easy, everybody would want to come up here and do it... Instead of just us.'

Hodgins corrects him 'You.'

'Mustang to Ghost Rider 115...110 spin, 42 lock. At 5 miles read your needles.'

'Needles read down and left.'

'Concur, Fly your needles.'

'Needles centre.'

'Roger. Call the Ball.'

'Wha? Call the ball? I don't even see the ship!'

Blasts slam the airframe. Rain tattoos the canopy. A gust rolls the tomcat, he straightens it, a gust flips it over again. The Carrier lights appear and disappear through the storm.

Wendell talks to himself 'A walk in the park, Mustang. You with me, Sweets? Hodgins...you with me?'

Wendell is thrown about as the wing dips, straightens, dips.

'Wendell Help me with this one, I'm really screwed up.'

'Hodgins, Bring it left. Bring it left, you're high.'

'Wendell this is crazy!'

'What is? Hodgins'

'Wait! Hell! Something's wrong! Wendell'

'What? What is it?'

'Were upside down!'

'Hodgins! You're crazy. We're level.'

Can't you feel it? I'm hanging in my straps! Wendell'

'You're not. We're level. Look at the instruments, we're okay! Hodgins'

'They must be broken. I'm hanging in my straps! We're inverted!'

'We're not! Trust me! We're okay.'

At the Flight Deck the LSO is controlling Booth.

'A little power...flies the ball. Looking good...hold what you got.'

On Booth's F-14 on his final approach, he hears Hodgins' chatter over the air.

'We're upside down! We can't land! Wendell'

'Well, we can't stay up here either. Hodgins'

At the Flight Deck, Booth's plane settles in over the ramp, suddenly, blasts from the plane's afterburners and roars over the deck without touching the deck and off into the night. The LSO is shocked into commenting.

'Where the hell you going?'

'I...forgot something.'

'What the hell you doing? Booth.'

'I'm helping him in. Clark.'

'What makes you think we can get back in? We don't have the fuel for this. Booth'

'Just get me to him.'

'Booth! He's nine o'clock high. We're two thousand pounds low!'

In dark turbulent clouds, Booth's plane pulls up behind Hodgins. Hodgins' plane suddenly flips over, flying inverted.

'I'm pulling up.'

'Hodgins, No! Now we're inverted!'

Booth pulls up off the wing of the inverted aircraft. His voice is calmness itself.

'Hey, any of you guys seen an aircraft carrier around here?'

Hodgins looks over, surprised. 'What are you doing here?'

'Everybody's got to be somewhere...now we're right with you. You are inverted. Roll it, Hodgins.'

'Nothing happens.'

'Hodgins, this is Booth. Half Roll it. Now!'

Hodgins' plane completes the roll, and it is now upright. 'We're on vapour, Hodgins; you got to put it down.'

'It's crazy, man. Instruments are crazy. We're gonna have to eject.'

'Booth, please, tells him, will you tell him? Our instruments are okay.'

'You're straight and level, Hodgins.'

'But, Booth, I'm hanging in my straps. I turn it over and I'm still hanging in my straps. What the hell is going on up here?'

'Hodgins, you're not in the straps. It's vertigo, that's all it is. Stay on my wing. I'll drop you off.'

Booth pulls up wing tip to wing tip, inches apart.

'Booth.'

'Yeah, Hodgins?'

'You better not be ragging me...if you're flying upside down...'

'No joke, Hodgins. On the level. Even I wouldn't do that to you.'

'I'm upside down. I know it. I'm gonna eject.'

'Hodgins, Look at the weather! They'll never find us! We're near out of fuel.'

'Hodgins, you're on the ball.'

'Okay... Okay. But if I land this thing upside down. And I live. I'll have your butt!'

'You'll have mine, Hodgins. It'll be where your head used to be.'

At the Flight Deck, all eyes on what they can see of the approach of the two airplanes. Booth drops Hodgins off at the pattern and circles. The LSO watches the approach. The tomcat drops a wing, straightens, drops the wing, and straightens ... the approach of a pilot experiencing vertigo as Hodgins tries to satisfy his inner ear.

'Level...your wings... Easy... You're settling...fly the ball.'

A wind shear just off the ramp drives the plane suddenly down.

'Power...power!..Power...wave off! Wave off wave off!'

The afterburners blast, but the tomcat horrifyingly settles tail-low towards the deck. The deck crew watches in terror as the plane wallows in towards them. The LSO's turn, take a few steps and throws themselves off the flight deck.

They sail into the night towards the surging seas a hundred feet below, and then are caught in safety nets hung off the side.

The airplane settles, settles, standing on its engines, trying to arrest its downward momentum. The hook raises sparks as it skids across the deck. The plane stops falling and hangs for a moment, about to blast back up, when the hook catches the last wire. The wire snags it, plucking 45,000 pounds of fuel, metal and men right out of the air and slamming it all to the deck. Whammmm! The Right wheel flies up the deck and over the side and the gear collapses. The plane screeches sideways. The crew watches helplessly as it skids and slams into it and comes to rest in a cloud of fuel vapour and steam.

The LSO runs up, and begins shouting into the mike. 'Hodgins, Wendell...come in Hodgins! Shut your engines down, you've arrived.' The air boss comes on also 'Ghost Rider! Acknowledge! Ghost Rider! Acknowledge!'

Suddenly the crash crew leap into action. The fire crew is there. Goodman jumps up onto the wing and crawls to the cockpit. The figures inside are not moving. He hits the canopy release and the canopy pops open. Goodman grabs at the rear seat harness release tab. He scream through his suit's aluminized cloth.

'Wendell, can you hear me? Wendell!' Nothing for a moment. He's dead! Then the RIO'S helmet moves...His head turns. He tears the mask away from his face, and looks up at Goodman. His head clears. 'Oh, Hello... Valet parking?'

Goodman is stunned for a moment. He straightens up, his head inclines quizzically. Then it hits him.

'Son of a bitch!'

'You will put it up front, with the Porsches?'

He grabs him under the armpits, and drags him out of the plane. 'Hey...easy...Take it easy...I'm a veteran!' Wendell grabs a passing crewman by the arm. 'Can you check under the hood? I thought I heard a funny noise.'

Other crewmembers begin to help Hodgins out. He seems stunned, but Wendell reacts to his fear with frantic one-liners. He grabs a crew member's radio, as Goodman helps him away and looks to the figures of the Admiral and the Air Boss far up on the bridge. He waves to them, and does his best impression...Desi Arnaz. 'Lucy...Ricky...I'n Home!' on the Bridge Flight Deck there is a moment of disbelief...then hysterical, tension relieving laughter.

Chapter 2: **Flash of the Blade**

On the Flight Deck Wendell spots Hodgins being helped out. He pulls away and reaches back into the cockpit and grabs Hodgins' snapshot of his wife, Angela and his Kid, Michael. They lead Wendell away as firemen blast the aircraft with foam. 'Is it extra for the hot wax?'

At the bridge on the flight deck the air boss shouts into the mike 'Clear the flight deck.'

On the flight deck, a Tillie, a four wheel mobile crane, slams up to the plane and slings it's lifting harness. Wendell turns to Goodman. 'Well...there goes your tip.'

Inside Booth's Plane, They have monitored the chatter. 'It's Wendell. He's alright. Bring it left...You're settling. Is the deck clear?'

'Roger, ball, little power...don't climb...okay, hold what you got!'

Clark does a quick sign of the cross, reaches down, grabs his balls...as...The tomcat slams onto the deck, clearing the wreckage by inches.

Inside the carrier hatchway the flight surgeon and the others watch as they bring a shaken Hodgins past. Wendell, eyes wild, waves at Booth and Clark, rolling up. They flame out -vvooommmmm! They sit there, immobile, waiting for a tow, looking numb. Wendell does his 'stewardess' speech.

'On behalf of your Captain and your crew, I want to thank you for flying VF101. And next time your plans include the middle of the goddamn ocean in the dead of frigging night, I hope you'll think of Naval Aviation.' The surgeon looks into Wendell's eyes. 'Stress reaction...' and checks his head. Wendell wobbling off 'Never mind my head, check my shorts!'

Later in the sick bay, Hodgins lies alone in the dimness, staring at the overhead. Below decks in officer's country, the usual clangs, whistles, engines of Navy life sound forlorn echoing through the dim, deserted passage. From the distance, a single figure passes in and out of the glow of the overhead lights. Hodgins comes closer, hobbling unsteadily. He reaches a door, pulls himself erect and knocks on the sign:

Commander Sam Cullen

CO VF 101

CULLEN

In Cullen's cabin, Cullen works at his desk, and responds without looking up. 'Come in.' He looks up. Hodgins stands in the doorway, a strange, dazed look on his face. 'Hodgins, what is it? You should be in sick bay. What are you doing?' He walks over to Cullen's desk. His eyes are glazed, but his jaw is firm. 'Thinking of my Wife and Kid.' A determined movement, with his hand to his chest, something metal hits it and skids across the polished surface and clangs up against the coffee mug: gold wings.

In the passageway Hodgins comes out of Cullen's room and bumps into Wendell and Booth. He turns the other way. Wendell calls out to him 'Hodgins!'

He stops, turns to them. There is nothing to say. Wendell hands him his snapshot. Hodgins looks at his wife and kid for a moment, and then looks up at them. He turns away. Booth also calls to him 'Hodgins?' Cullen comes out of his office and calls to Booth and Wendell 'Booth, Wendell...Come in here.'

In the doorway of Cullen's office. Booth appears, followed by Wendell. They stand to attention, 'Sir?' Cullen says nothing. Booth sees the wings on the desk. He enters, walks over, stares down at them. He picks them up. 'Don't worry. I'll talk to him.' Cullen sadly says 'Don't' Booth says to Cullen 'He's a good pilot.' Cullen replies 'I talked a man back once. Three months later, we lost him. It's his decision. Only he knows.' Wendell replies 'He's the best you have. He's going Aces High!' Cullen directly says 'Was.' Booth thinking he has not heard right says 'What?'

'He was going.' Cullen turns to Booth 'Now you are.' Booth stunned 'Me?' Booth stress at the wings, lost in conflicting emotions. 'Well, he's going.' Cullen indicates Wendell 'and he needs someone to fly the plane.' Wendell cannot believe this 'Cullen, you can't do this!'

'I didn't do it, he did it himself. Something about a wife and kid. The fact is, he's lost it. He knows it. I know it. You were up there, you know it, too.'

'Give him a break, Cullen. It was raining snakes up there. He'll be alright, soon as all the gorillas go home...' Then Cullen stares at Wendell, non-plussed for a moment.

'I know some RIOS are a little wiggy...but you abuse the privileges! I don't believe I'm going to have to put the two of you in the same cockpit... but there it is! It may be good for the Navy. It might be good for you, but most of all, it's good for me. It'll get you out of my sight.'

'But, Cullen, Hodgins' been picked for Aces High...He's the best of the best!'

'Well, you'll just have to make do with him.' Cullen indicates Booth. Wendell and Booth exchange looks. 'Booth's a great flyer but...'

'Booth! He's a hell of a flyer. In fact, he's so damn good he might have been picked for Aces High himself. Except for one thing.' He screams 'He just can't seem to follow orders!' Cullen moves slightly, to stand now, directly in front of Booth and speaks eye to eye at four inches.

'You just did an incredibly brave thing! What you should have done was land your plane. You don't own that plane, the tax-payers do. I should ream you out for it. But it just doesn't work with you. You're a hell of a flyer. You are maybe ... too good. You never really stepped in it yet. So this is your chance. I'm gonna send you up against the best. They are better than you. Maybe they'll knock that shine off your eagle and you'll see, finally, where discipline and teamwork fit it.'

Booth hasn't really heard anything else buy Aces High. He snaps out of it. 'Sir?' Cullen snaps at him, 'That is all. Tell me about the MiG some other time...' Booth responds 'Yes Sir!' He snaps off a salute and does an about face. Cullen sighs 'Booth..' He turns back and replies 'Yes Sir..' Cullen points to the wings in Booth's hand. 'The wings..' He looks down at the wings in his hands, slowly walks over and places them gently onto Cullen's desk. 'Gentlemen!' Booth and Wendell both reply 'Sir?' His facade cracks just slightly. 'Good Luck.'

In the passageway, Booth and Wendell push through a gauntlet of aircrews. They have become infamous. Guys grab at them..Questions...the MiG's?..What happened up there? How close did they get? What did the MiG's do? One word is heard over and over... "Aces High." Wendell is left behind in the crowd. Booth pushes through. He walks fast. Up ladders, around turns, down ladders, through passageways. Faster. He breaks into a trot, then a canter, squeezing past enlisted men, parts lockers, and then he breaks into a run.

A hatch slams open on the side of the Carrier. He's out on a catwalk, instantly soaked, running on rain slicked stairs cantilevered high over the breaking seas. He plunges forward to the bow of the ship, stands on the very peak. He is yelling something. He stands there as the bow plunges terrifyingly into the trough. The water rises like a green mountain, up, up to break just a few feet below him, showering him with spray. The noise is incredible. He raises his fist and punches the night.

Chapter 3: **Where Eagles Dare**

In the Mojave Desert - 1 week later, a big bike, a real big bike, a turbo... rockets across the desert. Fast, real fast. Aviator shades low above the handlebars. It's Booth, Wendell hangs on in the back. Booth cranks the bike faster, pulls closer with the engine screaming. The bike cranks up a notch, it's going to explode. It can't go any faster, but it does. It begins to scream higher, leaving dust.

Booth and Wendell both sit in silence. Just hearing the hiss and the pop of metal beginning cooling. Wendell looks over Booth's shoulder. Booth gets off the bike, standing to attention. Wendell follows more slowly. 'Son. Do you know why I stopped you?' Booth has some good idea how to deal with authority. 'Yes sir. I do sir.' The California Highway Patrol adjusts his own aviator shades. 'Well... What is it?'Booth more than sincere. 'Sir. You are going to give me a warning, Sir!' the California highway patrol gives Booth a touch of a smile, which is quickly suppressed. 'License and Registration.' Booth hands them over with his Navy ID. The highway patrol scans them, and hesitates a moment over the last, looks up with a touch more respect. 'Lieutenant, do you know how fast you were going?' Booth responds 'Yes sir. I do, Sir.' The highway patrol officer sighs 'Well?' 'Sir. I was going Mach point one five.' The highway patrol officer nods sagely. 'One SIXTH the speed of sound!' Booth looking uneasy 'Yes sir.' The officer nods 'Lieutenant... What do you... usually fly?' Booth responds 'F-14's sir.' The officer replies with new respect. 'Tomcats?'

'Yes sir!'

A long pause. Respect in the cop's eyes. He taps the Navy ID on the handlebars...staring at this sincere young man. 'Lieutenant... Is there...a Russian attack?' Booth replies 'No sir! But you have to be ready.' The cop nods and stares at him.

Later the bike is barely going fast enough to stay upright. Booth cool in shades and campaign cap dorks past the hanger with the sign: Fightertown, USA. He pulls ahead. In the back of him, escorting him with flashers is the California Highway Patrol Officer. They pull up at the gate. Booth and Wendell salute the guard, hands over their ID's. The California Highway Patrol Officer gets out of his car, and leans against the door. 'Lieutenant.' Booth turns to him. 'Yes, Sergeant?' 'Remember one thing.' Confused Booth asks 'Sir?' the California Highway Patrol Officer replies 'Outside of this gate...I...am Aces High.'

Booth salutes. The California Highway Patrol Officer returns a snappy salute. He gets back in his car and turns away. Booth receives his ID and clearance. As he passes through, a couple of pilots in flight suits, Sweets and Wick stare at him. The taller, dark, cool one speaks in a dry voice, meant to be overheard.

'Uh oh, police escort. This one must be a real killer.'

The second pilot grins big at them. Booth turns slightly and stares over his shades at them as he passes. Wendell grins back at the challenge.

Inside the Aces High Orientation Room, Jets swoop, missiles fire, a plane explodes. Gun camera views of MiGs, SAMS, flak, bombing runs... Hank explains to the group in front of him.

'During the Korean War, the Navy kill ratio was twelve-to-one. We shot down twelve of their jets for every one of ours. In Vietnam, this ratio fell to three-to-one. Our pilots depended on missiles. They lost their dog fighting skills. F-14's fighting with F-5's.

Aces High was created to teach ACM. Air Combat Manoeuvring...Dog fighting. Richthofen, Guynemer, Rickenbacker, Galland, Rudel, Bong would envy us. We do just what they did, but we do it beyond the speed of sound.'

Hank, A tough-looking, confident leader in a blue flight suit, stands before a video-tape monitor. Behind him, on the monitor, the dog fighting continues.

'By the end of Vietnam we upped our kill ratio to thirteen to one.'

He turns on the lights, and turns to his audience. 'You're here 'cause you're the top one per cent of all naval aviators.'

Sixteen young men/woman - eight flight crews - sit at attention. They are trim, fit and confident - high school heroes, college jocks.

'You're the elite, the best of the best. We're gonna make you better, because you're job is damned important.' the one who greeted Booth at the gate, Sweets.

'With the tensions in the world today, the potential for confrontation is greater than ever, and carrier pilots will be the first ones there. Air combat excellence is vital.'

Sweets is not looking at the speaker, but, rather, at Wick, a blond, good-looking pilot, whispers something to him, and gestures. Sweets is getting the lowdown on someone, that someone is, as Booth enters the room.

'...Someone once asked me if training men for air combat made the world less safe-flying loaded guns... an accidental confrontation and so forth...'

Booth feels the stare of the other man and glances in his direction. Their eyes meet. Sweets smiles coldly.

'My answer is: the dangerous thing is being unprepared. You want trouble, that's what you get when things don't work out, when you can't do what you say you can. When you don't know what you can do. And when your opponents aren't sure either. We are not policy. We don't make policy. Elected officials ...civilians, do that. We are the instrument of policy. The tip of the spear. So we had best be sharp.'

Booth has turned to look at Sweets. Sweets glances back in his direction. Booth looks at the back of the room where guys in blue flight suits stand. They are the instructors. They look relaxed, poised, mean. Wendell is looking up front...Where Hank has stopped. Wendell nudges Booth and whispers 'What are you doing?'

'Nothing, Wendell... That's Brennan's brother...that's Russ, isn't it?

'Turn around and pay attention. What are you doing?'

Booth musing to himself ... 'Just wondering...'turns back ... 'who is the best?'

Booth's shocked to find Hank staring right at him, with a killer grin on his face. He feels caught like a naughty schoolboy.

'Really...' Hank smiles at him. 'Ya know. We'd like to know whose best too. That's why we've got that plaque on the wall... with the Top Aces High crew from each class. You think maybe your name's gonna be on it?'

Booth knows he's in trouble, considers the social alternatives, and then tells him the truth. 'Yes sir.'

A couple of ooo's and aahh's from the guys. The instructors stare the challenge at him. He slides lower in his seat.

'Considering the company you're in, that's a pretty arrogant attitude.'

Booth somewhat chastised 'Yes sir.'

'I like that in a fighter pilot.' a Couple of laughs from the guys. 'It's okay to be confident. You have to think you're King Kong to want to try to land on carriers. Just keep in mind the other component of success...teamwork.'

Hank gather his notes, the lecture is over. Hank turns back for one more thought.

'Gentlemen, women this is about combat. Remember, there are no points for second place. Dismissed.' Hank walks out. Booth finds Wendell looking at him, quizzically. Others mill around the plaque. A big, friendly bear of a RIO speaks.

'A plaque?' asks Zach, Wick replies 'It's not the plaque. The winner can get assigned here as instructor. He gets to fight every day.' They both move closer to examine the names on the plaque.

Chapter 4: **Thunder Kiss**

Fast cars in the driveway, fast music blares into the night. It's Wednesday; Animal Night. Booth, Wendell, Wick and Zach walk to the entrance. Loud music, low ceiling, plaques of the squadrons line the walls. A dancer gyrates on stage, largely ignored by pilots talking with their hands. Every pretty girl in San Diego seems to be here. It's a noisy, rowdy place—a "Steam Releaser" for people under pressure. Nevertheless, there is a control to it all; there are none of the usual bar types, just pilots and Navel Officers.

The Ghost Riders enter. The place is on fire: a mob of dancers, flashing lights, blaring hard rock music. Beer flows. Pilots talk about flying and try to hustle girls. Nearby, an A7 pilot stands by the bar. He knows Wendell and speaks loudly for his benefit.. 'You know the Fighter Pilots motto? It's better to be dead than to look bad.' They both grin broadly. Wendell replies as they brush past each other, 'I don't know, Fisher, anybody gets off on bombing the shit out of dirt has got to be queer.'

Wendell exchanges friendly punches with the attack pilots. Booth's introductions and friendly barbs are drowned by the music. Booth is a bit reserved. He doesn't move among the crowd as naturally as Wendell does. Wick and Zach drift away, searching for quarry. Wendell orders beer. He nods towards a tall young man across the room. 'Gibson, Black Lion Squadron. I knew him at Pensacola. He's damn good.' Booth huffs and asks him 'Is there anybody in the Navy you don't know?' Wendell just replies 'Gotta keep track of the competition.'

Wendell suddenly reaches out and grabs a guy moving past. 'Vincent - they let you into Aces High? If you're among the best in the Navy, I tremble for the security of this country.' 'Why Wendell, whose butt did you kiss to get here?' Wendell sighs 'The list is long, but distinguished.' Vincent humours him 'so's my Johnson.' Wendell points to Booth and says 'This is Booth.' Vincent smiles good-naturedly, and shakes hands with Booth. 'So I've heard.'

Wendell asks him, 'Who's your pilot?' Vincent answers 'Lance Sweets.' Wendell is very impressed and says 'No shit. Sweets...' Vincent replies 'have some respects. It's Mister to you.' Wendell asks 'You think you can stay up with us.' Vincent replies 'I think, yeah, we'll show you a thing or two.' Wendell replies 'This is Seeley Booth, he steers the thing.' Vincent dry humours them both, 'So I heard. He steers it pretty close. Sorry to hear about Hodgins. He was a good man.' Booth quietly replies under his breath, 'Still is...' Vincent replies 'Yeah. That's what I meant.'

Suddenly, behind them, a flame shoots up. Someone ducks their head and swallows it. The pilot sets an empty glass on the bar. Vincent asks 'What was that?' Wendell replies 'a Flaming Hooker. It's sort of an institution around here. Or maybe this is the institution, I forget which one. It's the house drink. It'll warm the cockles of your heart and other things depending on where you spill it.'

He motions to the barmaid and she moves over, and sets them up. Wendell holds a demitasse glass. The barmaid pours Drambuie. They look at Wendell apprehensively. Wendell looks at nearby flyers in Camouflage fatigues. 'You can't show fear in front of Marines...They're like Doberman's they'll go for your throat, it's instinctive.

He takes out the match and lights it. Booth holds his arm. 'You ever did this before?' Wendell replies 'What, been drunk? Sure! Plenty!' He downs it all in one gulp and slaps the glass on the bar, still aflame. He stands there, blinking. Vincent asks 'How was it?' Wendell replies 'It could use a dash more jet fuel.'

The others are duly impressed. Booth's gaze falls on Sweets watching from the end of the bar. Vincent takes one; Booth takes one too, and downs it in a gulp. Finn, taking up on the challenge, motions for one. The barmaid pours it. Wendell replies to him. 'Careful, don't make an ash of yourself...'

He tries to drink the flaming concoction. He tries to go for a sip, but it's too close to his face and he tries to tilt the flam away, but that doesn't work. Finally he goes for the gulp. He burns his lip and misses and ends up with his hair setting on fire. 'Yeow!' Wendell reacts and says 'Mayday! Down in flames!' He throws a beer in Finn's face, quenching the fire. Finn blinks through the beer and says 'Thanks I needed that.' Wick sees it and comments 'You guys are not only crazy, you're dangerous!'

Sweets comes up from the end of the bar. He motions to the barmaid for another, it comes. Wendell lights it. He gulps it down, cool as hell. Sweets disdainfully say 'Frat boys. ' and he walks away. Vincent goes after him. Booth asks 'Who is that guy?' Wick answers 'That's Lance.' Wendell comments 'No Shit! That's why they call him Sweets?' Wick shakes her head 'Nope. It's the way he flies –Sweets cold. No mistakes. He wears you down. After enough time, you just get bored and frustrated, you do something stupid, and he's got you.'

Booth moves in Sweets' direction. He passes Zach dancing with Michelle, a girl with bright purple fingernails. On the dance floor Michelle asks Zach, 'Why do you all have such funny names?' Zach answers, 'You gotta have a call sign that's just your own...never changes...you have to recognize it immediately. Then, if someone shouts "Zach, break left!"..You react right away.' Michelle nods and asks 'Why do they call you Zach?' Zach smiles, 'Oh, I don't know.'

Wendell comes up with his arm around a girl. 'Hey Booth, this is Hannah. She doesn't believe a word I say. Tell her I'm married, will you?' Booth sighs and says 'Yeah, he's married—but then again, he's not dead.' Hannah laughs and tries to pull Wendell back towards the dance floor. Something in Booth's eyes makes him hang back with his partner.

On the dance floor, Michelle asks Zach 'Could I get a call sign?' Zach replies, 'Well, I don't know. That depends.' Michelle curious asks 'On what?' Zach sighs, 'Well, it doesn't just happen, you gotta do something famous.' Eagerly Michelle asks him, 'Like what?' Zach replies 'Oh...I'll think of something.'

Booth smiles at this, but he seems on edge. He watches a few pretty girls enter and eye the pilots in their flight suits, he then turns around and walks up to Sweets, who sits, drinking with Vincent. Booth walks over to him. Sweets notices Vincent's attention going to Booth. He turns and grins at him. Sweets asks him, 'Figured it out yet?' Confused Booth asks 'Figured out what?'Sweets smiles 'who is the best?'Booth replies, 'Nope.' Sweets taps Booth's shoulder, 'Need a hint?' Booth hoveringly replies 'I think I can work it out in my own.'

Sweets smiles at him and replies 'you like to work alone. I've heard that about you.' Booth copies him and smiles 'I've heard of you too. You were in 124 with Bargeman.' Sweets sighs 'And you were with Hodgins. He was my roommate in flight school.' Booth replies with 'He's a good man.' Sweets added, 'The best.' Vincent shrugs and replies 'You must have soloed under a lucky star. First the MiG, then you slide into Hodgins' place.' Defeated Wendell replies, 'It's not Hodgins' place. It's ours.' Unfazed Sweets replies 'What do you think it was? Was it that MiG contact that did it?' Wendell confused asks him 'Did what?' Sweets answers Wendell's question, 'Got you here?' Wendell huffs, 'We're here because we're the best flyers in the wing. Not because of some MiG encounter.' Vincent doesn't believe them 'What Luck! Guys fly their whole career without seeing a MiG up close ... You're famous.' Sweets tell them 'I think you mean notorious.' Something in the way he says it.

It's not quite a joke, more an insult. Booth's about to take the whole conversation too far when something, well someone catches his eye. She catches quite a few eyes in this room. She is very pretty and she's walking in on the arm of a Commander. Booth turns back, but the moment has passed. Sweets dismiss him with a nod of the head and a weak smile. Wendell pulls him away. Booth asks Wendell, 'What do these guys think, I made Hodgins quit?' Wendell shrugs his shoulders and tells him, 'Pay no attention to it. They're just trying to rattle you. It's all psychological. Sit down and drink.'

He deposits Booth at a chair by a table where other pilots cluster watching and listening to Parker shoot down his wristwatch. 'We were just really diving down and by then we were right over downtown Haiphong. It was some great shit. Jack says, "What are you doing?" "What, what am I doing, Jack?" He says, "What are you doing?" I said, "I'm rolling in, Jack." "Parker, we're at thirty-two hundred feet. Oh shit, we were like zooom... So we scraped down at hundred feet right over-downtown Hanoi! Oh shit, goddamn it! And blowing down the river. And so once we were there we let down to about fifty feet just going down the river and Jack says... "Parker... don't ever do that again!" "Okay, right, Jack, I'll never do that again!'

Booth pays little or no attention to Parker telling his tale. He instead broods and drinks alcohol. Suddenly, Wick nudges him, he turns to her. 'What what is it?' he asks her, 'Target passing. Check your six.' He looks behind him and checks his ass and replies, 'Never mind mine. Check hers.' They both turn and see, long legs, with a great ass and she is beautiful. Wick sharply replies, 'Her six is a ten! Uh oh, a turn to engage.'

Across a crowded bar room, Booth sees a stranger and somehow he knows, he knows even then. Zach turns around and sees her walking too and adds 'Bogey...9 o'clock level.' Finn asks him, 'You sure? Nine thirty. Bogey? You presume that is hostile?' Wick replies to them, 'Well, we should contact and check it out.'

She turned towards them as she passes by them; they start to make a move for her. But, she finds her date at the bar, a distinguished man with Captain's stripes. Their smiles all freeze and they all slide back in their chairs. Even though Booth can't stop looking at her, but after a while, the intensity of his starring gaze draws her to his attention. She feels him and she's nodding and smiling towards her date, but her eyes are scanning the room just like a radar. A warning tone goes off in his brain as they both lock on to him. He feels that thrill of excitement and fear you get when you know you're being targeted in someone's scope. Her eyes have a hold on him for a long moment, which is long enough, too be swept by the rest of the room. Eventually she turns her attention back to the Captain and laughs at something he says.

Over in the corner of the bar, Wendell chats up a couple of San Diego girls. 'The family unit - that's the most important thing. It's the only thing you can count on. I'm married -did I tell you that?' huffing a girl called Camille replies 'you have mentioned it four times. We don't believe you.' Wendell replies 'I've been married since I was eighteen. Why don't you believe me?' Rebecca another girl replies to him 'Because you don't look married.' Camille adds 'Besides you're not even wearing a ring.' Wendell replies with a big smile, 'I take it off when I'm chasing women. It's the only honourable thing to do.'

Booth's only half listening to Parker rattle on. Even though his eyes are still drawn back towards the woman, he tries not to stare at her. It amazes him that she seems to know a lot people in the bar, he looks away. Wick is currently busy chatting up a girl with a sincerity that cannot be taught; her lines are just as polished up as her appearance is. 'You don't think about death up there, but you think a lot about the danger. Just one mistake and you're a smoking hole in the ground.' Michelle replies to her, 'I never knew it was so dangerous.' Wick smiles at her and replies 'Oh yeah, it makes everything down here more meaningful. You feel a certain type of intensity of life, and you want to grab onto every moment.'

Booth looks up towards the bar again. He gets a shock. She is starring right at him, this time very intensely, as her date whispers something in her ear. She notices him, starring back and quickly looks way, embarrassed. She says something to the man. He nods and turns away as someone else grabs his current attention. The woman now wouldn't look towards his way for anything. She stands and pick up her purse from the bar and walks through the crowd and out of the room. Impulsively, Booth stands up, and he follows her outside the bar.

He breaks out and looks around; he doesn't see her disappear around a corner. He moves after her and hears a door slamming shut. Impulsively, before he realizes what he doing, he's through it and realizes he is in the woman's lavatory; he should have looked at the sign on the door. He hears a feminine gasp and she is standing beside the mirror, with her make-up out, looking straight back at him. He's not quite sure what to do and thinks that a hasty retreat would be appropriate, but embarrassing. Ah what the hell, he is a fighter pilot! And he just walks right over to her with no idea what he will say. She's already got her lipstick out, twisting it open. She looks over at him with an amused smile and says to him. 'Long cruise, was it?'

She leans over the sink, puts on her lipstick and sees his eyes cover hers through the mirror and asks him, 'Anything I can do to help, Lieutenant?' Booth cockily replies, 'Lots of things.'

Brennan laughs at him, he is attractive, but there are other girls in the room, so she doesn't want to be too encouraging towards him and she tries not to grin at his embarrassment and replies. 'I'll bet!' Booth confused asks her 'Uhhh...Anything I can do for you?' She laughs again, and doesn't know what it is. It could be chemical but she's instinctively attracted. 'Yeah. Hold this. It might be safer.'

She hands him a make-up mirror and starts re-applying her lipstick. He just stares back at her and she looks up at him, then back to putting on her war-paint. Finally, when it's finished, it looks cool and she is amused. 'Now I know why all the girls are coming here. They know how horny you guys all get. But this...is ridiculous.' Booth smiles at her and replies, 'It's not that.' She's mock angering him and toying with him. 'It isn't?' she asks and he replies 'Well, it is. It is that, too.' Brennan's not shocked and replies, 'That's a big comfort to me.' Booth replies 'I could be too.' Brennan smiles and asks him 'How so?' Booth huffs and replies 'I would save you from a big mistake with that other guy.' Brennan adds 'And onto a bigger mistake with you?' Booth replies 'Maybe, Yeah, most likely.' Brennan continues to smile and asks him 'Was there ever a girl who doesn't like fighter pilots?'Booth doesn't smile and says 'I heard of one once.'

Brennan laughs again and shakes her head; he's just another cocky cowboy! She gently takes the compact out of his hands and snaps it closed. 'I'm really flattered, Lieutenant, but I don't go out with pilots.' Booth flat right asks her 'Then what are you doing here?'

Three pretty blondes enter and look at Booth quizzically but not without their interest. Brennan asks Booth 'I think the question is...what you are doing here?' she tries to keep a straight face as she walks out of the room. The other girls all look at him expectantly. A beat. He just stands there and then realizes he's holding her lipstick. 'Hi. I'm here to talk about a new valid concept in cosmetics...'

At the bar, Brennan returns and spots the Captain motioning to her. Booth enters, goes to the other end of the bar. He orders another drink. It arrives and he drinks it. He then pays for it and moves through the bar , towards the door. At that moment someone backs into his path, he moves quickly and into someone else, Brennan. She says 'Sorry.' And sees it's him. Booth smiles and replies 'It's my fault. Should have watched where I was going.' Her hand goes to his collar and she adjusts his insignia. She smiles at him and asks him. 'Where's your wing man? Who's watching your six?' he shrugs and replies 'Uh, nobody, I guess.' One final adjustment and she replies 'Too bad.' Brennan breaks the spell abruptly and turns away from him. 'See you around.'

Booth finally finds his voice. 'Can I walk you out?' Brennan turns back to him, with a smile and replies. 'I'm with Someone, Booth'

Later that night, Brennan and the Captain leave the bar. They both walk together and stop. She turns and says something polite to him with a peck on the cheek. The Captain turns away. A dome light briefly illuminates the interior of the car as a door is opened. It rocks slightly as someone gets in. Brennan turns back and walks over, takes her keys out. She opens the door to the car and gets in.

She starts the car and pulls away. Suddenly, a figure sits up in the back and says 'I thought he'd never leave.' Brennan startled, yells 'Yeow!' and nearly drives off the road. She turns to him, startled asks 'You! What are you doing here?' Booth shrugs and says 'Everybody's got to be somewhere.' Brennan sighs 'What if Captain Daniels had come with me?' Booth sighs 'It would have been really embarrassing!' Brennan asks him 'How did you know this was my car?' Booth replies 'I used a simple deduction. It's fast. It's pretty, sleek and stylish. It's also your colour and matches your lipstick.' Brennan hotly replies 'That's all!' Booth says 'And I asked someone.' Brennan says 'You think you're pretty smart.' Booth only replies 'I think I'm in love.'

Brennan pulls up at the guard gate, a marine corporal is on duty. He sees the pretty girl pull up to the gate and stop. He leans over helpfully and asks 'Can I help you, ma'am?'Brennan smiles even more sweetly. 'I don't know, Corporal. Can you do anything about this lunatic?'

The car door swings open and Booth gets out. The car roars away. Booth stands in the glare of the spotlight, rocking on his heels, looking across at the guard, who snaps to attention and stares holes in his chest.

Chapter 5: **Black Sunshine**

At Aces High the next morning, two guys in flight suits run down stairs past stencils of MiG kills on walls, then down the corridor. Arastoo groans 'Not so fast...my head.' They skid to stop outside a door.

Inside the Hangar, ground crews works on planes in B.G. Hacker is in middle of a lecture. The door bursts open and Finn and Arastoo both skid to a halt when they see the whole class looking at them. Hacker asks them 'Who are you?' Finn replies 'I'm Finn.' Hacker is unimpressed 'Yeah, right. You're late.' Hank breaks in, indicating Arastoo. 'And who are you?' Arastoo replies 'Arastoo.' Hank amused asks 'Arastoo...? You don't look like an Arastoo to me. You call that muscle? Doesn't look like muscle. Looks like...Sully.' they laugh. Even Finn has to laugh, scratching his chest. Hank confused asks 'What're you laughing at? You're Stires.' Finn stops scratching. Finn and Stires both call out at the same time 'Stires!' Sully calls out 'Don't make an issue of it, it'll stick.' Stires unhappily says 'It'll stick anyway.'

Hank turns away and says 'Now to continue. In this class we will be dealing with F-5's and A4's, as our MiG simulators. Technically the F-5 does not have the thrust to weight ratio of the MiG 21 –it also does not bleed energy below 300 knots like the MiG-21 does. The A4 does not turn as well as the MiG-17 but has significantly better visibility.'

Booth looks back to his notes. A door opens and Hank looks up to the back of the room door. 'Hi, Brennan. Good, our TAGREF'S here. Brennan's the most qualified to get into P subs and curves, and VN diagrams.' Booth turns to see the TAGREF walk forward. Booth stares at her as she passes without acknowledging him. He is surprised, embarrassed.

Hanks still talking 'Temperance Brennan—code name Brennan—not your ordinary TAGREF. Brennan has her Ph.D. in astrophysics and anthropology and she's a civilian contractor so you don't salute her or anything else. Is that clear?'

Brennan walks to the front and starts her presentation. She talks about something very technical, arcane. MiG tactics, technology. As the briefing rattles on, Booth reacts to her. Wendell glances over at him. He, too, recognizes the girl. He looks at his partner. Booth feels his stare.

Brennan starts talking 'Hello, I think I have some new data for you. Now a MiG 21 has a problem with the inverted flight tanks. It won't do a Negative G push over. Even below one G, they risk a flame out. Operationally, they will do a zero to one G only.' There is a snicker from the class and she hesitates momentarily, goes on, 'The latest intelligence shows that the most they will do in operation is one..is there something wrong, Lieutenant.' Booth tells her ' I don't think you're altogether right about the MiG, that is.'

Brennan stops and some of the pilots look at him while Hank glares. 'I beg your pardon.' Booth continues heatedly 'No, I beg yours. But I don't think you're right on that.' Stunned Brennan asks him 'Why not?' Booth answers her 'I saw one.' Brennan sighs 'You saw a MiG 21?' 'Yeh, I saw a MiG d negative dive.'

Brennan doesn't believe him 'Where did you see that?' Booth says to her 'It's classified.' There's a nervous buzz in the room and Hank goes rigid. Brennan can't believe it either. 'It's what?' she asks. Booth replies 'It's classified. Like Wick says, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.'

Sully stifles a laugh, while the others chuckle and Hank is embarrassed and shouts 'Booth!' Brennan stops Hank with a glance and says 'It's all right.' She can handle it. She is very cool, not overbearing. She says it calmly. She doesn't want to embarrass him any more than he is, but she has to get the facts straight. 'Lieutenant, I have a top secret clearance. The Pentagon sees to it that I know more than you.' Booth crosses his arms and replies 'Not in this case.' Brennan flatly replies 'You saw a MiG push negative 4G?' Booth replies with a 'Yes, ma'am.'

'Where were you? Brennan asks him and Booth replies 'On his six.' There are little stifled laughs. Brennan asks 'He was in a 4G negative dive and you were on his six?' Booth replies to the question being asked 'Yes, ma'am, at first. Then I was directly above him.' Brennan stares at him for a moment, and then she has him and goes for the kill. 'If you were directly above him, how did you see him?'Booth flat out right says 'I was inverted.' There's a sudden real buzz in the room and Sweets laughs audibly. 'You were in a 4G inverted dive with a MiG 21?' Brennan can't believe it. 'At what range?' Booth replies 'Two' Brennan asks 'What two miles?' Booth comes back with 'No, at Two meters.' The chuckles in the room were barely suppressed. Wendell pipes up to deflect attention off Booth and adds 'It was one and a half, actually. I got a Polaroid.'

Brennan flatly replies 'Lieutenant...' Booth replies with 'Ma'am?' 'What were you doing there?' Booth replies 'Giving him the bird.' There's open laughter and she thinks it's at her. Brennan starts growing red. 'The what?' Brennan asks Booth replies 'You know. The finger.' Booth shows her, but she can handle this.' 'So you're the reason those SALT talks failed.'

The room breaks into laughter, at him and now he starts growing red. Wendell puts his hand on Booth's arm and shakes his head as if to say 'Let it go, pal, she got you.'

Brennan looks at Hank and he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He knows there's something here he doesn't control and so he shouts 'Lieutenant!' Wendell replies 'It's just like he says, sir.' Hank snaps 'I don't care!'

Outside the Lecture Hall as Brennan walks away, Booth runs up and stops her. 'Why didn't you tell me you were a TAGREF?' Brennan studies him coolly for a moment, like a bone specimen. 'It never came up.' Booth replies to her 'So You let me make a fool of myself.' Brennan replies 'Well, you seemed determined to do that anyway..Why didn't you tell me you were a famous MiG insulter?' Booth shrugs and huffs 'Would it have made a difference?' Brennan replies 'No.' Booth asks 'What would?'

Brennan sighs 'You know, I'm assigned to this school. I see sixteen new hotshots every eight weeks. Your attention is flattering, but not really productive. Why don't you keep your mind on flying?' She reaches over and re-aligns his collar insignia. 'Why can't you keep this straight?'

She smiles at him and walks away. Booth turns and sees the others sizing him up and most of them grin. Booth moves down the corridor past the CO's Office. Hank leans against the doorsill and lights a pipe, laconically eyes Booth. His tone of voice gives away nothing, like an ELINT probe eliciting a response. 'Booth...Where'd you get that call sign?'Booth responds to him 'Ahh...It runs in the family, sir.' Hank is surprised 'You're father was Marvin Joseph Booth..' the only thing Booth can do, 'Yes sir.' Hank says to Booth 'Your father was a good man. Also a good flyer.' Hank turns away while Booth behind him says 'Yes sir. Thank you sir.'

Booth watches him for a beat, he's been tested, but he's not sure how or why. He turns to catch up with Wendell and the others.

Later in the sky at twenty-eight thousand feet, the two planes circle each other, going in opposite directions. As they jockey for position, they snap past each other like ends of bullwhips. The earth spins, the horizon appears and disappears. With each hard turn, Booth and Wendell grunt to keep blood in their brains and to keep from passing out.

The fight is hard, physical and exhausting. The extreme G forces at 6.5 flatten them against their seats, causing their heads to weigh over one hundred pounds. Booth strains to turn his head and track the other jet as it streaks past at Mach One. 'I've lost him – where is he?' Wendell replies 'On your six and he's coming hard at four hundred. Losing airspeed! He's on your six and closing fast! Hard left! HARD LEFT!' Booth jerks the stick left, and the F-14 takes an astonishing turn. Hacker roars past into a wide arc. Wendell replies 'Great move. Great.' Booth sighs and says 'He should've had me.' Wendell replies to Booth 'Take it down. Let's bug out of here and call for a draw.' Booth replies heatedly 'No way. I'll nail him this time. Going vertical.'

The plane explodes into afterburner rocketing towards space. Hacker is left in direct line with the sun and his canopy is sprayed with a blinding glare. Going ballistic is very dangerous, as the plane flies like a bullet, obeying the laws of physics and not the pilots' touch on the control surfaces. The ballistic call warns other aircrafts that he is, for the moment, out of control. Wendell shouts 'He's blind –you got him!' Hacker boomingly replies 'NO JOY! NO JOY! WHERE ARE YOU? I'VE LOST MY SIGHT.' Wendell just replies 'He's out of energy! You got control? Unload!'

The F-14 peels over the Egg, in a backward dive. It rockets down the outside, gaining energy. Over the roar of jets and the scream of the wind, Wendell shouts data, but it is muffled, like a distant voice in a typhoon. Through the canopy, Hacker hangs in the air like a sparrow in the path of a falcon. Booth lines up the diamond with Hacker and a high pitched tone starts beeping. Hack responds 'We're below the hard deck. This means the fight's off.' Wendell replies 'He's right. We're at ten thousand.' Booth just replies 'No way. I got you, sucker. You're going down.'

Hacker manoeuvres and Booth keeps him in the gun sight. The beeping is getting louder, faster. Booth responds 'In the envelope. FOX TWO MISSILE SHOT. YOU'RE GONE, HACKER, DEAD!'

Wendell is stunned 'Goddamn! We beat him!' there is an edge of anger in Hacker's voice. 'ROGER FOX TWO. GET YOUR BUTTS ABOVE THE HARD DECK AND RETURN TO BASE IMMEDIATELY.'

They are both brought up short for a moment, then the thrill of victory gets the best of them. Wendell lets out a war whoop. The F-14 sweeps up and rolls into an immelman. Booth shouts 'We did it!' Wendell also shouts 'Look, Ma, top of the world!'

Booth's Tomcat breaks hard and high and rolls over on its side, wings perpendicular to the ground. Wendell sees the world go sideways. 'Ahh...A little high on the left, don't you think?' Booth replies with 'Right.'

He aileron rolls another quarter turn. While inverted, they pass right down the runway. Wendell looks out and insouciantly watches the world go by at 300 knots, upside down. Wendell responds 'Right, Much better. ...Ahh...What do you call this?' Booth responds to Wendell 'It's a victory roll' Wendell heatedly replies 'Well, I wouldn't call it a victory. It's more like...self immolation.'

At the control tower, controllers work while Officers watch the landing activity. One old salt, turns from the coffee machine with a cup of steaming Java microns from his lips. There's a roar and a vaboom! The Tomcat roars over. He yelps as hot coffee flies all over his crisp white shirt.

In Booth's F-14, Booth and Wendell completes the roll, they bank left and zoom right by the tower, which is level with the observation window. The controllers look out at the F-14, with their mouths dropped open, Wendell waves jauntily and says 'Hi...Hi there. How ya doing in there? Booth...Ahh...you know, at one point I did want a Navy career.' Booth laughs and says 'Come on, relax...' Wendell replies 'You see all those guys with gold on their shoulders!... Oh, no, I think that was Harkness, the Air Boss of the Delphinus Hawk!' Booth replies 'Come on, Wendell, we beat an instructor. How many times in your life do you get to do a victory roll?' Wendell replies 'Just once, if they take your plane away.' They roll out and break over the runway.

Booth and Wendell walk by parking Tomcats. As Sweets is unstrapping himself, Vincent is climbing down. Sweets takes one look at Booth and says one word 'Cowboys!' Booth keeps walking while Wendell hangs back. Vincent says 'Nice. Always a good idea to show up your instructors.' Vincent nods towards Hacker, glaring at them from his A4. Wendell indicates the backseat of the Tomcat and says 'Hey, see any controls back there?' he thinks about team loyalty and reacts to Hacker's glare. 'And anyway...we beat the son of a bitch!' He turns and runs to catch up with Booth.

In the locker room, Pilots are half undressed, when Booth and Wendell enter the room, carrying their helmets. The students look up at them, and Wendell suddenly flashes a thumb up sign with a grin. The students react with clenched fists, ad libs, high fives and victory punches. Zach asks them 'You won?' unfazed by this Booth asks 'Didn't everybody?' they all go 'ooo' and laugh. Zach replies 'No, we...got our butts kicked.' Wick adds 'it was thirty seconds. That's all it took to blow us out of the sky.' Zach re-tells their one 'We went like this, he went like that I said to Wick: where'd he go? Wick says: where'd who go?' Wick then adds 'And he's laughing. Right over the radio, he's laughing at us.'

The attention turns to the doorway as Sweets and Vincent enter. Sweets gives a brief dramatic pause, then flashes thumbs up and smiles. The students all celebrate Sweets' win. As Sweets handles the attention with the easy composure of one who is used to it. Booth ignores him and begins to peel out of his G-suit. Sweets moves towards his locker. Wendell asks 'You won?' Congratulations.' Wick adds 'Booth and Wendell won too.' Sweets talks into his locker, 'That's not what I heard.' Wendell defends himself and Booth 'We Won!'

Sweets turns back and stares them down, then turns back into his locker, dismissing them. 'Below the hard deck doesn't count. You guys are the second team, aren't you?' Booth gets up and moves towards him, starts to say something, when Hacker, breaks into the room. 'Booth, Wendell. Hank's office. Now!' in the Aces High corridor outside the CO's Office, there's a lot of screaming and yelling, muffled by the door.

Enlisted Yeomen and Chiefs go about their clerical duties in acute embarrassment mixed with curiosity. Behind the CO'S door, someone is screaming his head off. BOOM! The door bursts open. A big, brawling Officer - Harkness, the Air Boss - blasts out, nearly smashing into a female petty officer. She almost spills her coffee. Harkness looks right and left in fury too strong for words. He looks like he wants to smash something. They move out of his way, but he gusts blasts through the door and disappears down the hall. The enlisted men turn to Hank's office.

Hacker stands inside stone-faced. Booth and Wendell are rigid. Hank...with excess calm deliberation, softly walks over, grasps the doorknob. He glances in this direction. The glance is totally without expression, and even scarier for that.

In a flash, each man finds something totally engrossing in his work, or something terribly important to do elsewhere. Slowly, steadily, Hank swings his door closed. He moves over to face Booth. There is a silence like after a train wreck; nothing but the popping of sprung metal and the low gasp of escaping steam. Hank speaks quietly, like a funeral director consoling the living. Makes you want

to scream. 'Well...That about covers the flyby.' Hacker almost breaks into a grin. 'Now...in addition...you broke two major rules of engagement. And... That's ...not good.' 'Booth gives no response. Hank continues. 'Lieutenant Hacker lost sight of you, and called "no joy". You failed to respond.' He stops and looks at Booth... A beat. Booth finally nods and Hank asks 'Why?'

Booth is exhausted. It's been a long, rough day. His voice is a horse whisper 'I had him in view. I was peeling over the egg, into a dive. He saw me when I moved in for the kill. There wasn't any danger...' Hank says to Wendell 'Is that how you remember it?' Wendell replies 'Yes, sir. By the time we could respond, we were diving right into his view.' Hank is not satisfied with the answer, Wendell gives him but he moves on. Hank says 'The hard deck for this hop was ten thousand feet. Hacker, at what point did you call off the fight?' Hacker replies 'Just below ten thousand.' Hank asks 'But you continued to fight.' Another pause, another grudging nod. 'Why?' Booth responds to Hanks question .

'We weren't below for more than ten seconds. There was no danger. I had the shot, so I took it.' Hank is stunned and shouts at them 'The rules of engagement are not flexible. They exist for your safety, you will obey them. Is that clear?'

Booth thinks about continuing the discussion, but the thought is momentary. He quickly cuts his losses and gives Hank what he thinks he wants...he is just on the cusp of too sincere. 'Yes sir, perfectly clear. I guess we were ... I was... just a little over enthusiastic.' Hank measures him for a moment and then lets it go. 'I guess you were. Dismissed.'

Booth and Wendell leave the room. Hank looks at Hacker and picks up Booth's fitness report. He doesn't read it; instead he looks back towards Hacker. 'I don't know what to tell you.' Hank asks 'Tell me one thing.' Hacker waits. '...If you had to go into combat, would you want him with you?'

Hacker turns and walks slowly around the room. The walls are lined with pictures and photographs of planes, pilots and history. There are MiG killers, attack squadrons and ground personnel. There's even one picture of a phantom in flight with the backseater mooning the camera. Other pictures show carriers, famous flyers and previous CO's. Finally Hacker replies 'Yep.'

Hank slaps shut the fitness report. 'He's seat of the pants...Completely unpredictable and does nothing by the book. All over the sky, but I don't know, he's really got something.' Hank smiles and says 'Yeah, we get one of these guys every damn class.' They laugh 'Booth!' He throws the report on his desk. Hacker responds with 'Yup, a wild pony.'

Inside the cockpit at night, the wind roars and jets whine. Wick and Zach are being thrown about as Wick fights the stick. Zach replies 'No. No. Look out, you lost it.' They depart flight and tumble. The horizon swings wildly as they go into a flat spin. Zach is terrified and shouts 'We're dead!'

Fortunately for them, a face appears at 12,000 feet, right in front of their canopy. Wendell's eyes bug out at them. 'Man, you guys gooned it. Your laser butts are scattered across Kansas.' Wick is disgusted with herself. 'Come on. I died enough for one night.'

They climb out of the simulator which is a cockpit sprung on moveable rams, and is surrounded by a dome on which video images are projected. As they climb down, Booth and Wendell climb up into the cockpit to take their place. Wendell asks them 'Have you guys ever considered career counseling?'

The simulator control room is filled with computers, tape transports and video screen representations of computer generated combat. Now Booth flies it as Brennan and the other techs watch. Inside the cockpit Booth flies the heck out of it. It's real to him. It lurches and bumps, the noises and sights look real enough. He gets on the tail of a MiG. It breaks, he breaks and then what he does is just too fast to follow. It screams around in a turn. Suddenly, there is a whummp...alarms and the lights come on. Wendell asks 'What happened.' One of the techs asks 'What did you do in there?' Wendell asks 'What did you do? You broke it!'

In the computer analysis room Booth and Wendell enter. The techs all cluster around the keyboards trying to reprogram and to figure out what went wrong with it. Brennan tells them 'You flew it off the template. Nobody ever did that before.' Wendell replies 'That's what she said last night.' She stares at Wendell until he grins and moves off to give the others his valuable opinions on how to reprogram the computer. 'What is it about you?' Booth just shrugs at her and smiles. 'What would you say, too fast... too quick...' Brennan jumps in at the end with 'And far too aggressive.' Booth agrees 'True. But it is still combat. Every second counts.'

Brennan replies with 'The hottest moves in the world aren't gonna help you if you wind up alone. Your wingman's got to be able to follow you, trust you and know that he can depend on you, it's more than just fancy flying.' Booth responds with 'Well, what you need and what you have to keep looking for is a wingman that can stay with you. Who can match you move for move. Then you've got something. I'm sorry.' Brennan asks confused 'For what?' Booth replies 'That stuff about the MiG. I was out of line.' Brennan nods and says 'apology acknowledged.' Booth dejected asks 'Is that all?' Brennan asks 'Well, what else do you want?' Booth smiles and says shyly 'Um. You.' She laughs again 'There you go with those moves again.' Booth asks her 'Too aggressive?'

Brennan replies 'I don't mix with the boys, usually, I work here. Let's keep it professional.' Booth smiles and says 'I'm special.' She laughs and says 'Yes, I'll give you that!' Booth huffs and says 'Give me a break, I'm asking you out.' Brennan unhappily declines him 'I can't.' Sad Booth asks 'I thought there was something that night in the club.' Brennan sighs unhappily 'Lieutenant...'

Booth replies with 'Its Seeley... or Booth.' Brennan smiles sadly 'Booth...you know the rules of engagement.' Booth can't believe it and says, 'The what?' She smiles because she knows she has confused him. 'Someone comes up hot on your six, What do you do?' Booth still confused asks 'What are you talking about?' Brennan tells him 'You turn into him and check him out and identify this friend or foe.' Booth only replies 'I'm not your foe.' Brennan then tells him 'And if he's harmless, you disengage.' Booth comes out with 'Harmless!' with his arms crossed over. Brennan doesn't answer 'uh hum.' Booth asks 'What if he's not?' Brennan turns serious as she replies 'You have to shoot him down and if he's smart and he'll turn away before that happens.'

Booth mutters to himself 'Harmless. Nobody ever has called me harmless before...' Brennan interrupts 'And probably will never again. It's nothing personal. It's just that I know a lot of pilots. Maybe I'm immune...' Booth doesn't give up, 'Don't worry, I'm a new strain. And I don't give up. Everything I've ever had wanted I've had to work like hell for. Well, how about it?'

'How about what?' Brennan asks him 'How about anything, anything you want to do.' Booth replies. Smiling Brennan says 'well, it's hard to argue with that, isn't it...' Booth claps his hands 'Great, a date with Coffee, a drink and a walk in the park with a kiss.' Brennan asks 'What about the plane?' Booth running his hand through his hair asks 'What plane?' Brennan explains 'Well, most of them invite me to sit in the cockpit and play with the levers and things.' Booth says 'Well, get used to it.' Brennan confused asks 'Used to what?' Booth replies 'I'm different.' Brennan replies 'I'm starting to sense that now.' Booth slowly smiles and claps his hands again 'You're slow to engage. But you'll come around.' She pushes him out the door 'Let's make it at eight.' Brennan confused again 'Make what?' Booth replies with 'anything.' Brennan smiles and says 'Okay, anything. Just...go. I've got work to do.' She closes the door and turns back to her computer screen.

Chapter 6: **Gun Love**

They all had a day off, including pilots and other personnel are enjoying a day at the beach. There are bikinis and beer, sunfishes and water skiing. The annual over-the-line tournament is in progress, which is a variation of softball. The team from the Teddy Kennedy Driving School is whipping another known as Scum de Terre. The pilots are doing pretty well at blowing off steam.

A pretty fish come into view and a spear shoots through it, and nails it to the ocean floor. Two figures pop to the surface and wade in to the beach. Booth holds the wriggling fish, which Brennan is repulsed at as she pulls off her mask and snorkel, she follows him in to the shore. They flop down and he drops the fish in front of her, and sees her reaction at watching its death throes. Brennan asks him 'Why'd you do that?'Booth surprised says 'I had the shot.'

Brennan looks at him for a moment and then turns away fiddling with her mask. Booth replies 'It dies. We live.' Brennan is disgusted and says to him 'You're an animal.' Booth nods and says 'That's true. What are you?' Brennan replies 'I usually don't enjoy watching things suffer.'

Booth smashes the fish on a rock. It is still. Brennan shouts 'No!' Booth grabs her and hugs her giving her comfort and replies 'It's not suffering anymore.' Brennan looks at him strangely and half jokes 'you're horrible.'

Booth taunts her 'You're not, cause you eat frozen meatballs?' he puts the fish down. 'Things die. Every time you breathe, you kill millions of tiny

organisms. Every time you eat, something had to die.' She huffs and says 'You didn't have to kill it.' Booth smiles grimly 'Somebody does. It's more honest this way. You do your own dirty work.'

Brennan asks him 'You ever think about killing another human being?' Booth replies 'About as much as they think about killing me.' Brennan softly replies 'Does it bother you?' Booth replies 'They know the rules...'this is too much for her and she turns away, he therefore comes around to her. 'That's the deal. That's why you're up there. It's him or me. That's the price of admission.' She draws away from him. 'It bothers you, why? You're part of it.' She stiffens and he knows he's losing her. So he softens 'Everybody dies. Most people don't get to die for something. You don't want to confront it, do you? You want to keep it all clean, cerebral... velocity vectors, wing-load diagrams...You ever been up?'

Brennan asks 'What Flying?'Booth replies 'yes, you use your mind to keep things at a distance. You ever just let go?' she doesn't answer. 'You know what really scares me? Living too long, losing my hair and my teeth and my guts and my wind. And my brains, sitting in a room with my hands in my lap watching daytime sport tv.' Brennan responds then 'You don't believe any of this. You don't think you'll ever die.' Booth replies 'That's it, of course. When I'm up there and doing it, I'm cheating it every second. I'm subverting all laws including gravity...whatever. I'm always skating the edge of it.' Booth sighs and continues 'All you've got is one life. I guess it's worth about the same to everybody. You ever see an old woman after her husband has died? And the meaningless years decline and stretch ahead...When you're in the air and doing something really dangerous, then you can look ahead...Maybe ten seconds. That's your whole future. That's as far as it goes. But imagine what those seconds are worth.'

Brennan asks him 'What if you kill yourself? Think of everything you'll miss.' Booth replies 'There is lots of stuff I don't know about...Fine wine...great art...the opera. I guess if I live long enough, I'll get to it. If I don't, I'll never miss it.' Brennan stunned asks 'Are you really that brave?'

Booth shakes his head no. 'I watched my mother die of cancer. She had a long time to think about it. They say you reach an agreement with death. Come to accept the fact that pretty soon you won't be here. I didn't see that. She...was very brave...braver than I am. You go up there, there isn't time to think. If you make a mistake, you're just a smudge on the ground. Simplifies funeral arrangements.'

Brennan replies 'It's just as I thought.' Booth smiles and asks 'What is?'Brennan replies 'You're totally insane.' Booth smiles 'Thanks very much.' He lifts the fish and asks her 'Care for some sushi?'

Later at the other end of the beach there is a killer volleyball game currently in progress. Booth and Brennan wander towards it, both talking softly to themselves and Wendell runs up to him and grabs him away, yelling 'Come on, we're next.' Booth is confused 'What?' Wendell replies 'Come on, I got over six bucks on the line.'

Booth looks up and sees the other two-man team, the victors, waiting on the other side of the net for them. Of course it had to be Sweets and Vincent. Brennan sits and watches as the game gets immediately out of hand and in moments, Booth and Sweets rotate to forward positions directly opposite each other across the net. The other revelers turns to watch as it begins to degenerate to more than a game. Booth quickly glances at Brennan and he sees more than uncomfortable, but irrevocably drawn into the confrontation. But she says nothing, but her attitude is apparent.

Vincent and Wendell set them up as they try to spike the ball in each other's face. The final point is up over the middle. They both go up together while Booth smashes, Sweets blocks but the ball sails away, off his own forearm. For the first time ever, Booth beats him. He looks over at Brennan and she is staring out to sea. She looks back at him and he's suddenly had enough competition. They call for another game, but Booth turns away as Wendell calls for him 'Come on, come on! It's double or nothing. We're talking twelve bucks American, here.' Booth calls over his shoulder 'I've had enough...for now.'

He grabs Brennan and his gear 'Come on.' Brennan asks 'Where?' Booth replies 'You want to go ballistic?'Brennan steps back and says 'I don't know. I don't like being out of control.' Booth looks back at Sweets, bouncing the volleyball and staring at him. 'Stick with me, you'll get used to it.'

Chapter 7: **Lucky Strike**

In the desert the bike is doing 130,140,150 mph and Brennan is unfazed by it. Booth turns around to check her out and she smiles back at him.

It is now sunset and the bike is parked in front of a Rustic Adobe Cantina. The place has the latticed terrace and streaks of light and Booth is currently feeding a dog while Brennan sits on a rail watching him. Booth tells her 'I always wanted to fly...ever since I first saw a jet. I wanted to fly jets and then I wanted F-14's, then I wanted to fly off carriers. My dad, he, uh –He drove thuds and phantoms in Vietnam. Those are fighter jets. And then I wanted Aces High.'

Brennan had to ask 'And now?' Booth replies 'And now I want you.' Brennan smiles 'You always get what you want?' Booth replies 'I don't know yet.' They go to a bar and Booth puts money into a jukebox, while she watches him eye to contact and the music comes on. Brennan says 'I want it understood.' Booth replies 'Anything.' Brennan smiles again 'I want no fooling around on base, no signs and no comments and definitely no talk by anyone at all.' Booth sighs and asks 'Why?' Brennan sighs and replies 'Because I'm a professional and you guys are in my line of work.' there's a long beat as Booth looks at her and makes the pact like a sailor. 'Acknowledged.'

Brennan looks at Booth's eyes for any sign of a put-on, insincerity. Finally he smiles at her and she can read it. It's time and she moves in and covers his grin with a gentle kiss.

They both sit within distance at a table and the dog sleeps beneath it. Their eyes are now locked onto each other and the electricity almost arcs between them, their fingertips touch. Booth stands and pulls to him, putting his hands on her waist to head. Holding, her close together, both swaying in time with the music that is currently playing and their lips gently brush together.

At the tactics range, an F-14 swoops over the desert. It roars over an antenna complex. The jet is in its missile rack and it carries a tactics transponder. The tactics range is an area of the desert completely enveloped by computerized radar. The computers quickly calculate a number of aircraft's positions and velocities by means of using transponders in the ships and ground stations that talk to each other thousands of times a second. Using this system, it is possible to track aerial combat instantaneously and can give the pilots directions and also to play back the combats for analysis.

Daytime Inside the tactics range trailer, the double viewing screens are five feet high and are state of the art. On the screens are computer animated figures showing jets from various different angles. The flight data is displayed and the operators punch buttons to show various points-of-view of the battle which includes a pilots', God's, from overhead and a long range one showing topography of the landscape and the height of mountains.

Students and instructors sit on chairs in the peanut gallery, facing Hank at the front of the room. Brennan is situated in the back. Hank starts the lecture 'The bandit has good position right here. All right, freeze here.' The moment of choice and Booth is defensive. 'He has a chance to bug out right here. It's better to retire and save your plane rather than force a bad position. Stay in the diamond another three seconds and the bandit will blow you out of the sky...make a hard right, select zone 5...' he turns to Booth to drive the point home. 'You can extend and escape. You make a bad choice. Roll forward.'

The computerized rendering resumes on the screen. Hank continues 'You perform a split S. That's the last thing you should do. The bandit is right on your tail – freeze there...the bandit has you in his gun-sight. What were you thinking here, Booth?'

Booth replies 'I wasn't thinking, sir. I just did it.' Hank shouts at him 'Big gamble with a thirty million dollar plane!' Booth smiling replies 'No guts, no glory.' It's a joke. Hank doesn't like that answer at all, but some of the students laugh and mockingly whistle at the cockiness of it. They give Booth the high sign. Vincent leans to him and says 'Your guts. His glory.' Booth slumps down in his chair under Hank's glare. The computer rendering rolls forward again. He glances back at Brennan. She smiles sympathetically at him.

Hank continues 'Unfortunately, the gamble worked, or you might have learned something. The bandit never gets a clean shot...Booth makes an aggressive vertical move here and comes over the top and defeats the bandit with a missile shot. The encounter was a victory, but we've shown it as an example of what not to do. Sweets is up next.'

Another computerized rendering comes up on the screen. Wick leans close to Booth and speaks quietly. 'That's the gutsiest move I ever saw.' Booth gives her a small nod of appreciation. Hank jumps in to what Wick just said 'And the dumbest...Okay, look at this. It's textbook. Sweets takes control of the battle immediately. He never gives the bandit a chance to take the offensive. An early turn here – excellent. He goes for the jugular and it's over just that quick. Let's run that again, it's exactly how it should be done.'

At the runway they are all in full flight gear, carrying their helmets and trying to stuff their food down their gullets, the students rush and stumble towards the flight line. Wick takes a bite out of her sandwich and then makes a face. Wendell asks 'What the hell is this?' Booth only replies to him 'Don't chew it; you won't have it that long. It's easier to clean the cockpit if it comes up in big chunks.'

Hacker yells from the distance. 'On the runway. Come on! Let's go. Move it!' Wendell sighs 'A fighter pilot's lunch...a hot dog and puke.' They scurry ahead, overtaking the others. Wick says 'I was a victim of circumstance.' Wendell laughs 'They should have warned you about that one.'

Wick continues 'he's kinky for flight suits and said that he'd never seen so many zippers and played with them all night. The noise alone kept me up.' Wendell replies 'Well, what'd you do?' Wick replies 'I pulled left, rolled out, underneath.' Zach adds 'It's kind of ironic. All you guys have men and women troubles and I so don't.' Wick just replies 'That's because you don't have any women.' Zach replies 'Until last night, Did you see the moves I was making on Michelle at the party?' Wick asked 'Who? The girl with the purple fingernails?' Zach rolls his eyes 'That's her—tall hungry woman with fire in her eyes. It was great.' Booth only replies 'I think it was bad.' Zach confused asks 'Bad?' Booth replies 'Yeah, the girl with the purple fingernails was Hodgins' sister.' They all laugh. Zach looks stunned.

Wick replies 'Hodgins spent half the night looking for her. He said he was gonna kill the son-of-a-bitch who ruined his sister.' Zach stammers 'I didn't ruin her.' Booth interrogates him 'you sure? You didn't help?' Zach now stutters 'No, really. She came ruined!...Ya think he knows it was me?' Wendell replies 'Hodgins seemed not to. But it's hard to tell ya know. You never can tell what's in the mind of a conspiracy theorist/Psychopath.'

Zach looks very unsettled. Wick says 'Have you heard about Sweets?' Zach asks 'What now?'Wick replies 'He won again.' Wendell walks beside Booth now. 'Is something bothering you?' Booth replies 'Nothing, Wendell, Let's just go 'n' fight.'

Zach looks very apprehensive as they approach the F-14's. The mechanics surround both planes, making last minute checks of all systems. Among them is Hodgins, Booth tosses him a wave and says 'Morning, Hodgins.' Zach joins in 'How's it going', Hodgins?' Wick suddenly asks 'Did you ever find your sister, Hodgins?' suspicious Hodgins asks 'Do you guys know somethin' about that?'

Zach swallows hard and hurries quickly into the plane. Hodgins glares at them all with a look that could kill.

Wick leads, Booth follows. They both point their noses down and dive. Two bogies fly side by side at five thousand, outlined against the blue Pacific. Smaller, slower, they seem to be helpless for a moment. They hear the instructors in the F-5's. 'TWO AT SEVEN O'CLOCK, HACKER. SCRAMBLE.' Hacker responds 'ROGER, HANK. COMING LEFT.' Wick swears 'Holy shit, it's Hank.' Booth replies 'Keep your shirt on; he's saying holy shit it's us.'

The bogies spilt. Bogey one hard left. Bogey two hard rights. Wick sweeps left, pursuing Bogey one. Booth hangs back to cover her. Bogey one makes a strong vertical move. Wick stays on him. Booth yells 'STAY WITH HIM, WICK...YOUR SIX CLEAR!'

Bogey one loops and comes down, and Wick almost loses him for a moment before regaining the angle. Booth yells 'STAY WITH HIM! TIGHTEN YOUR TURN!' Wendell says 'Bogey at three o'clock high! Nose on!' Booth loos quickly at three o'clock high, and sees Bogey two returning to the fight. He just the stick right, and the two planes make a quick pass. Hank yells 'SNAPSHOT..MISSED HIM.' Booth yells 'ENGAGING THE OTHER GUY. WICK, YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN.' Wendell says 'Just cover Wick, Booth! Mutual support, man!'

Booth says 'I'm gonna take him, Wendell.' Wendell replies 'Don't be greedy. Booth, stay with Wick.' Booth acts like a child and says 'I want him!'Booth goes suddenly vertical and zooms straight up. Wendell says 'Hey, come on-hey!'

Booth loops the F-14 down to get the quickest angle on Hank in Bogey two. Hank takes off, running from the fight again. Booth looks over his shoulder and sees that Wick still has a good position on Bogey one. He takes a hard right and streaks off after Hank. Wendell asks 'What! What are you doing? We're cover!' Booth replies 'Wick's doing okay. I want Hank.' Wendell looks back at Wick and Bogey one. Wendell cannot believe it! 'But we're cover!'

Hank streaks across the sky with Booth close behind. He pushes the throttle forward to zone 5- full afterburner. Hank shows all his tricks...hard left, hard right, rolling into vertical and flipping into a dive and Booth stays with him. Hank says to himself 'Goddamn, rookie, you're all right!' Booth turns to get Hank into the diamond. He hears a sidewinder growl in his headset Booth asks 'What's the range, Wendell. I've got a good tone.' Hank jinks but Booth stays with him. Hank is in the diamond, and the tone goes crazy. But suddenly... Wendell yells 'TWO BOGIES! THREE O'CLOCK HIGH, NINE O'CLOCK HIGH! BREAK!'

They come completely out of nowhere, flashing down towards Booth in a crossfire ambush. Booth's eyes are startled. Hacker yells out 'ATOLL ON THE NORTHERN F-14. HE'S OUT OF THE FIGHT...' Booth is stunned and realizes he has been tricked and humiliated. There's a little salt for the wound as Hank and Hacker celebrate. Hank says 'He walked right into it.' Hacker agrees 'Not only that, but he got your wingman. Nice going.' Wendell adds 'The defence department regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid!' he slaps his helmet like a dolt. Hank yells 'KNOCK OFF THE CHATTER, ACES HIGHS. LET'S RTB. HANK HAS THE LEAD.'

Inside the locker room there is complete silence. Several pilots in various form of undress. Booth and Wendell sit with their heads down, with a hangdog expression on their faces.

Chapter 8: **Kiss it Goodbye**

Later inside a bar Booth mopes and a figure comes up behind him. It's Hank, he says 'Ya know, that was the best flying I've seen since Nam...' he grins '...except right up to that part where you got killed.' Hank sits down; he's in a jovial, taunting mood. Although Booth watches him guardedly. Hank continues 'I have Twenty years' of experience, I couldn't shake you. You may be a great flyer. I mean that.' Booth sadly says 'I lost.'

Hank puts a hand on Booth's shoulder and says 'of course you did. I said a great flyer, not a smart one. You fly recklessly. Got great instincts. No discipline. That ambush today, you followed your emotions instead of your wingman. Of course you got killed...and well deserved to. It was a really stupid mistake. In battle, it gets people killed.' Booth nods and stares at his beer. 'I can take care of myself.' Hank removes his hand off Booth's shoulder and says 'Talent is no holy shield. Von Richthofen was killed by a farm boy. Instincts are not enough; we do it our own way. We've worked these things out. The good pilots can become better and the great ones can learn how to stay alive.' Hank studies him for a moment. 'Why do you have to do everything the hard way?'

Booth sighs and replies 'Because, it's my own way. 'N' it works for me. I don't care about the rest of that stuff.' Hank replies 'Then why are you here?' Booth replies 'For the same reason you are' Hank gets what Booth is talking about 'Oh, you mean the thrill!' Booth nods happily 'Yep, the flying and the fighting. I'd go up there ten times a day to fight. I'd win at least nine of them. That's all I want to do. It's what I do best. I am real good. Just give me the jet.' Hank studies him, 'It's not a gift, you know, just a loan...'Hank finishes his beer, and then rises. 'Nine out of ten is okay, as long as it's only fun and games. But this isn't about that. This is serious business. It is dangerous up there! At 500 knots, things can change a lot in a second. Discipline is what protects us.

Hank signals the bartender and drops some money onto the bar. He stretches and looks around and says 'it was a good day. You learned something. You lost and you're still alive to think about it. And, you lost your wingman. That's a cardinal sin...don't ever do it again. You owe Wick an apology and you also owe me a beer. Hank touches Booth's shoulder as he moves away. It was just the gesture Booth needed, for he seems to have relaxed from his tension he didn't know he had. He sips his beer alone.

At night in the San Diego Airport, Booth and Wendell move through the terminal with anxious and expectant looks on their faces. Wendell says 'Relationships are a bitch, here. It's hard enough to concentrate...under the pressure. Having a woman here is asking for it.' Booth replies 'I guess that's what I'm doing then.' Wendell just asks 'Where do you find the time? Where do you find the energy? It's tough enough to keep your mind on school. A woman here is a real pain in the...'

A pretty woman emerges from the crowd and spots them first. She rushes towards them, happily, carrying her sleepy four-year-old, Ricky. Wendell undergoes an immediate change, beaming a big smile that he has practiced on her for years. She then sets down the kid.

'...butt...Hi, honey, God, is I glad to see you! I missed you.' Wendell wraps his arms around Amelia, smack, a kiss. She smiles at Booth and turns back to Wendell. 'I had to come, Wendell, I got so lonesome I just couldn't stand it.' Wendell replies 'Sure, honey, I understand. It's so great to see you. Hey where's your backseater, where's the world's smallest RIO.'

Wendell looks all around and then down at the kid, hiding shyly behind his mother's skirts. Wendell grabs up the kid and zooms him around, obviously a game they've played before, every six months or so. The kid laughs happily. Booth just sort of smiles to himself and shakes his head.

Booth comes to the surface. She enters by the side of the pool. She hands him a split fresh pineapple. He eats it in the most salacious manner possible. He's so contented; he's babbling, 'Food...and you...my F-14!' Brennan laughs 'In that order?' Booth only replies 'Well no...In reverse order.' Brennan smiles at him 'Whatever the order, I'm still second best.' Booth asks 'You ever fly an F-14?' Brennan laughs 'I don't fly in anything that doesn't show movies.'

He gets out and grabs a towel, moves over to some chairs. His flight suit is draped over one. He moves it to sit down. 'Ahh, you'd love it. Night carrier landings! The most dangerous thing you can think of! ...next to you...And the most exciting. You're living at one hundred and ten per cent. Greatest high in the world...' Brennan replies 'Danger? Doesn't it ever bother you?' Booth confused asks 'Why, what's gonna happen?'

Booth's flight suit slips onto the ground and Brennan bends down to retrieve it and as she lifts the suit, something falls out of the pocket. It looks like a gold coin. She picks it up. Booth is drying his hair and she holds the object out to him, questioning silently. He sees it and quickly takes it and stuffs it back into his pocket. 'Lucky charm.' Brennan is angry and snaps 'What do you take me for? It's a Navy Cross.' He roots through a picnic basket.

Hank is explaining the pre-flight activity, '...MiG sweep over the water. You will proceed down the one-seven -zero degree radial looking for MiGs. You will engage all that you find, destroy them, and return to base. Booth, has the lead. Any questions? All right, let's go. Move like you've got a purpose...'

Four F-14's fly in formation over the Pacific, searching for MiGs. They spot them and engage. The combatants fly scissor to scissor patterns, slashing past each other, angling for position and a barrage of information gets exchanged between pilots and RIO's. Booth and Sweets both swoop together on each other's wings, moving on each other, testing, they glance at each other and nod. The challenge and the fight is on. Suddenly an F-5 rises up out of the clods in front of them and Sweets has the advantage and rolls in on him and he yells, 'ENGAGING BANDIT 12 O'CLOCK.' Booth punches the cockpit and swears 'SHIT!'

The F-5 sees his pursuers and goes into a hard left. Sweets yells 'MIG'S IN A LEFT. MIG'S IN A LEFTHAND. I'M ENGAGING.' Sweets struggles against the G's to bring his plane's nose to bear. They go around into a tight circle and Sweets has the advantage. He is closer to the F-5's tail than the F-5 is to his. But he can't close and can't line up the shot. He grunts and strains as the G force pushes him down. Booth yells 'COME OFF RIGHT-COME OFF HIGH-I'M IN-I'LL ENGAGE.' But instead Sweets yells 'STAY WHERE YOU ARE. HE'S MINE. I'M ENGAGED. I'M IN.'

Booth manoeuvres close to their left circle and Sweets yells 'GET OUT OF THERE, YOU'RE UNSAFE. GET OUT OF THERE.' Booth is now pissed at Sweets and tells him 'FIRE, OR CLEAR OUT, SWEETS.' But instead Sweets tells him 'No! GET LOST!' Booth not having it 'YOU GOT TOO MUCH NOSE TO TAIL - I'M COMING IN.' Sweets whines 'IT'S MY SHOT.' But Booth yells 'COME OFF-COME OFF RIGHT. I'M ON MY WAY IN. YOU GO FREE, I'M ENGAGING.' Sweets is stubborn and tells him 'STAY OUT OF IT. STAY OUT OF IT, BOOTH.' Booth sees his opportunity and yells 'YOU CAN'T SHOOT HIM, I CAN. I'M IN. SWEETS, ROLL OFF, I CAN SHOOT HIM.' But Sweets like a broken record says 'NO, NO, NO, HE'S MINE.'

Booth is pulling a lot of G's, but he can't target his weapons, he continues to turn in a hard circle, going round and round without gaining. He can't bring his nose to bear. 'IF YOU CAN'T SHOOT HIM, I CAN.' Sweets says 'NO, I GOT HIM. I CAN TAKE HIM.' But Sweets stays. Booth says 'COMING IN.'

Booth dives down between the two planes pulling 6.5 G's, exposing his underside to Sweets. All Sweets sees is belly. Obviously, in this attitude Booth can't see him. Sweets says under his breath 'Son-of-a-bitch.' He slams the stick hard right in towards Booth and Sweets quickly rolls up right, in front of him, Sweets yells out 'LOOK OUT!'

Booth sees him flash into his view. He has to slam the stick forward to avoid collision. He swings by real close, maybe too close. Wendell cries out 'Oh, no!' They pass through Sweets' turbulence. The blast distorts the airflow to Booth's left engine. BOOMBOOMBOOM. The engine flames out. Full thrust on the right, engine swings the tail around in a yaw. Booth slams the stick right to correct but it's too late. Wendell cries out 'Plane's coupling up! Plane's coupling up!'

The plane couples one yaw to the next, the tail swings around in which quickly becomes an ever increasing flat spin, like an out-of control frisbee. Wendell cries out 'This is not good...' his panic is rising. 'We're low!'

Booth is pinned to the instrument panel by centrifugal force, desperately tries to reach back for the ejection lever but he is falling short by about a foot. Booth yells 'I'M PINNED TO THE PANEL.' Wendell also yells 'TIME TO GO.' Booth yells at him 'WENDELL, I CAN'T EJECT.'

The plane is spinning even faster than before, out of control. He drops the gear. Still spins. Wendell is closer to the centre of a spin. G forces are less, he reaches behind him for the eject handle and starts the eject sequence. '3000 FEET. I'LL DO IT.' Booth replies 'GO AHEAD. I CAN'T REACH. 2000 FEET!'

Suddenly there's a boom and a hurricane of wind and noise, and the canopy blasts away but it is being held spinning above the cockpit by the vortex of the sinking jet. Wendell glances up at it. '1000.' Booth replies 'LET'S GO. EJECT.'

Wendell yanks the ejection handle and things happen in a split second. Wendell is fired up and out by the rocket under his seat. Almost instantly he impacts the spinning canopy. A sickening crunch is heard and the canopy is knocked away. Booth is slammed back into his seat as the ejection seat straps wind up. He is blasted out of the plane just before it spins in.

As Booth tumbles he's in shock, the loud thumping of his heart and his labored breathing and it includes a scream that will stay forever in his mind. Instinctively, he gropes for the straps and he releases the pilot seat, and it tumbles away. His chute streams and balloons open, snapping to his body like a bullwhip. He drifts momentarily and then plunges into the sea.

Booth's face is distorted in the water. He has wild eyes which are disoriented and choking for air. He reaches out and finds nothing to grab. Suddenly, he is yanked hard to the side. On the surface the parachute is caught by the wind and has been dragged, pulling Booth beneath the surface. He is twisting in the water, turning over and over, trying desperately to slip out of the tangled straps. He finally hits the surface of the water and sucks gob-full's of air into his lungs. With the end of his strength, he hits the release snap button and breaks free from the parachute. It whips away like a kite in a typhoon.

The sea is choppy and rough. Booth struggles as his equipment drags him under. He twists and finds the inflatable raft attached to his harness. Booth pulls the cord and the raft hisses open. He pulls his body into the six-by-two foot raft and collapses, completely exhausted. The survival has been almost without thinking: an instinctual physical struggle.

At twilight Booth begins to focus on the situation. He stains the water with dye and then sees another parachute floating nearby. Paddling to the parachute, he reaches over the side and begins to pull on the heavy cords that are submerged in the water. It's a great big struggle, as the weight is extremely heavy. Finally, he pulls a body to the surface and realizes its Wendell and notices he is dead. Booth releases the parachute and pulls Wendell into the raft on top of him. He holds Wendell in his arms. His mind shuts down again.

In the ocean at night searchlights skim over the black ocean. A brilliant light flashes as Booth pops a pencil flare. The helicopter blades flick powerfully, the lights of the choppers descend towards the wreckaged area, scanning the debris, searching for life. The spotlights find Booth and Wendell in the raft.

The draft from the chopper churns the water. Goodman drops from the chopper and hits the water with heavy splashes. He surfaces and swims to the raft as a rescue harness is lowered. Booth watches curiously as Goodman starts to examine Wendell. Booth hugs Wendell closer and looks threatened. Goodman says to him 'Let him go, Booth. Take it easy.' Goodman tries to pry Wendell free, but Booth has a death grip on the body. 'Booth! Let him go. It's all right. Let him go.' Booth glares at Goodman as he bobs in the water.

After another long moment, Booth releases Wendell. Goodman quickly straps Booth into the harness. Booth watches the lifeless body in the water as he is pulled up and away, he shivers from the cold.

Chapter 9: **Nothing Else Matters**

In Booth's hospital room at night. Booth is emotionless, his eyes are flat and without expression. There is complete silence in the room, Hank is there. He is quiet and calm as he probes Booth 'How do you feel?' Booth replies 'All right.' Hank replies even though Booth knows this next piece of information, he feels as if he should confirm it 'Wendell is dead.' Booth snaps 'I know. I was there.'

Not one sign of emotion from Booth. Not even one tone of expression. Even Hank's face is strained from a very long day, 'If you fly jets long enough, something like this happens to you. No one escapes it. It touches us all.'

Booth looks at Hank and his eyes are very disturbed. Booth says 'He was...my responsibility-my RIO.' Hank replies 'My first squadron in Vietnam, we lost eight out of eighteen planes. Ten guys. The first one kills you, but there'll be others-you can count on it.'

There's no reaction from Booth. He can't quite face up to that reality right now. Hank tells him 'You've got to put him in the box.' Booth is watching Hank, but he doesn't have anything to say.

In Brennan's sports car at night Booth opens his eyes, and doesn't know where he is for a moment. Brennan says '...they say you're alright.' Booth replies 'I'm fine.' Brennan tells him 'This is it, then.' Booth is confused and says 'What?' she explains 'The dark side. The price you pay for all the fun you're having. You knew about it, of course. Didn't you?'Booth's now starting to get upset 'He was a friend of mine. A good guy...great guy. It was my fault.' Brennan is concerned and is trying to console him 'That's not what I hear.' Booth still upset but is getting angry 'Yes it is! I was flying...my responsibility.' Brennan is confused 'isn't that what you get flight pay for.' Booth scoffs 'Maybe I shouldn't take it.' Brennan is surprised 'Why? You act like you didn't know one day this would happen.' Booth huffs 'Not to me.' Brennan loses her cool and she snaps 'You knew it. You all do. It's part of it. Maybe the most important part.'

Brennan's car pulls up. They get out and walk down towards the water. Booth seems dazed. She is softly taunting. Booth asks 'Where are we?' Brennan replies 'Where are we? You know where we are. It's called the beach. It's where life first crawled up out of the sea. I come here sometimes... when I feel like crawling back in.' Booth murmurs to her quietly 'You don't have to do this.' Brennan asks 'Do what, show you a good time?'Booth replies 'I'm not good company. I should be alone.' Brennan thinks differently 'I don't think so, but if that's what you want...' They both stand there; not making a move until Booth utters 'No.' Brennan asks 'What do you want?'Booth replies 'I want Yesterday back.' She turns and nods out past the moon.

'You look way out there. Out past the date line. West becomes East, all things change. You cross the line...today becomes yesterday...or

tomorrow, I forget which.' Booth says 'That's what I want.'

She turns and walks along the surf line. He walks to the surf, kicks the sand with his bare feet. Booth says 'If we knew then, what we know now, we might never have come up out of there.' He turns to her and she just looks at him. 'You don't believe that.' He picks up a piece of flotsam, a twig, worn smooth. He turns and walks. Booth asks her 'What do you do when you come here?' Brennan shrugs 'I sit. I think. I play games.' Booth asks 'What kind of games?' Brennan smiles and says 'I like to play "reality".'

She stops and turns. Booth asks 'How do you play reality.' Brennan laughs and says 'It's strip reality, actually, like what the pilots always want to play.' This gets a small laugh from Booth since the accident 'Strip reality! How do you play that?' Brennan explains 'It's like strip poker, only, without the bluffing.' Booth laughs again 'One person says something and if the other one accepts that it's true, the one who says it, gets to take one item of clothing off.'

Brennan says quietly 'Want to play the game?' Booth asks 'How does it go?' Brennan explains 'You say the truth. Go ahead. Don't be afraid. You want to win the game, don'tcha?'

'Wendell is dead.' She nods and says 'True. Take something off.' He takes the ribbon from her hair. It falls down over her face and shoulders. Now it's her turn. 'It's dangerous...what you do.' He nods. She slowly loosens his tie and pulls it from around his neck. 'It was my fault.' She says nothing, stands looking into his eyes. He slowly, as if in a trance, takes her blouse off. 'You can't bring him back.' She takes off his shirt. 'It was my fault.' He starts to reach for her. She pulls back. 'Nope. Already used that.' She turns and thinks for a moment, looking at the moon. 'Your life goes on.' Rather than struggle his T shirt over his head, she grabs it

with both hands. She leans in close and bites it. She grabs both sides of the tear and slowly rips it off his body. 'What does it mean?'

She shakes her head no 'That wasn't fair. It was a question. Penalty round!' She drops her skirt. 'You didn't mean it. You didn't think. You'd do anything to take it back.' She unbuckles his belt, slowly slides it off. She unzips his pants, they fall. He rests his head on her shoulder, unhooks her bra. She shrugs it off. They stand on the beach in shorts and bikini bottom, looking into each other's eyes. Leaning in, softer and harder...they both jump the gun. 'I love you.'

They embrace madly and sink to the sand. From the distance it looks like a strange slithering creature crawling back to the sea.

The lights are out in Wendell's room at the Bachelor Officers' Quarters. The door opens, and Booth enters. He sets a cardboard box on the bed.

Silently, Booth gathers together Wendell's few personal possessions. He fills the box with clothes, books, a clock, a radio, a walkman, and articles from the bathroom. He examines each closely, like an artefact...as if he might find some message or meaning in them. He fumbles them into the box. He can't see too well, his eyes are full of tears.

Booth closes the box and carries it to the door. He takes one last glance around, then leaves and closes the door behind him. Amelia and the kid, stand, staring at a silent TV. Amelia looks dazed, lost. Booth walks in, finds her. An awkward silence while they both try to think of something to say. Booth hands the box to Amelia.

He sits staring...the thousand-yard stare. Booth's eyes slowly focus. Things become real.

Chapter 10: **The (Un) Forgiven**

In the conference room a board of inquiry, a commander and other Navy Officers are seated behind tables at the front of the room. Booth faces them, wearing dress whites. Hank is also present. The Commander looks at each of the Officers. They each nod and in turn, indicating readiness. The Commander turns to Booth, and states for the record:

'The Board of Inquiry finds that Lt. Seeley J. Booth was not at fault in the accident of twenty-nine July.'

No response from Booth, one way or the other. Hank studies his face with concern. 'Lt. Booth's record will be cleared of this incident.' There's still no response from Booth.

'Lt. Booth is restored to flight status without further delay. These proceedings are closed.' Booth doesn't respond.

In Booth's bedroom at night, he lies on his bunk and stares at the ceiling. The phone next to his bed is ringing. It rings eight or nine times, then it stops. He makes no moves to reach for it.

On the F-14 flight line Booth sits in the cockpit staring at the controls while the ground crew preps the aircraft for flight. Hodgins helps him strap in. He speaks solicitously to Booth. It is unheard over the jet noises and radio babble. Booth looks at the cockpit as if it's a strange territory, suddenly foreign to him. He grabs the stick like it's some peculiar talisman. He turns and looks back after and he seems surprised that it moves the control surfaces in the tails.

Stires yells 'BOGEY AT TEN O'CLOCK LOW. YOU'VE GOT THE ANGLE - PIECE OF CAKE.' Booth checks ten o'clock low. He is disturbed. He tries to make the move, but he is a man with no secret: he is afraid. Stires yells 'ENGAGE, BOOTH - ANYTIME.'

The bogey abruptly turns into him and Booth hesitates. Then suddenly, he jerks the stick hard right and takes the F-14 away from the bogey at great speed. Stires is startled. 'WHAT? WHERE'RE YOU-HEY, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?' Booth replies 'DIDN'T ... AHHH...LOOK GOOD.' Stires yells 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT DOESN'T GET TO LOOK MUCH BETTER THAN THAT?' Booth yells out 'NO. NO GOOD.'

Daytime on the flight line Hacker walks up to Cullen who waits near an F-5. 'He just won't engage. He can't do it, Cullen. He can't get back on the horse.' Cullen sighs 'Hacker, It's only been a week. Keep sending him up.' Hacker stutters 'I've seen this before.' Cullen nods and says 'So have I.' Hacker sighs again 'Some guys never get it back.' He walks off.

Booth grabs his stuff out of the locker, throws them in a bag. He glances up as Stires enters, continues to pack. 'What are you doing? Stires asks him. Booth replies 'Saving them some paperwork.' Amused Stires asks 'Since when did you care about paperwork?'

Booth walks away. Stires hesitates, and then follows him. 'If I could fly like you I'd have everything I want. If I could fly at all. I can't fly. I can't fly like that. Nobody can. Whatever it is, you've got it!' Booth sighs and says 'Not anymore.'

Grabbing the suitcase, Booth brushes past Hacker and walks up the corridor. Hacker and Stires watch him go. Stires goes to the phone.

At night at the San Diego airport Brennan parks her car, jumps out, and runs toward the main entrance to the terminal. Inside the terminal Brennan hurries through the crowd, bumping past people, searching frantically for Booth in the huge terminal. She moves past bench after bench, and her eyes flick in all directions. A quick glance at the souvenir shop, the coffee shop, and then she heads for the bar.

Booth is there, sitting alone in a booth with his suitcase beside him, staring into a drink. Brennan composes herself, then walks to the booth and sits down across the table from him. Booth does not look pleased. 'Never liked fighter pilots anyway.' He looks up trying to be angry, but he can't help it, she makes him laugh. 'I've got a gift just like you do. My gift is I just know what people mean, even if they can't say it. It helps when you're trying to communicate with fighter pilots. Like what you just said was "I'm embarrassed, I feel I've done something wrong, that I've failed, and I don't think I can live up to the expectations of a wonderful interesting, intelligent woman like yourself." That about it?'Booth laughs '...Something like that.'

Brennan smiles 'Hey, I never said I was a fighter pilot...I never claimed to think it was fun to be shot off the end of a ship in a storm. I can find

contentment in a good book. I don't have to roar by someone at Mach two

with my hair on fire. Sometimes...I get happy being with the right

man.' Booth sighs 'I hope you find him.' Brennan smiles and says 'I think I have... I could be wrong. I have been before. Just remember one thing. If you're not Aces High, if you're not fighting jets, you're not gonna be able to act like a fighter pilot... You're gonna have to act like the rest of us. You're gonna have to master humility. For you guys, that's the toughest manoeuvre of all.'

She gets up and lays a bill out for the drinks. 'So long, Sailor. See you on the beach sometime.'

Brennan swings away, her walk sucks in the stares of every man in the place. Then they look over to Booth, with quick flicks of envy in their eyes. He stares them back and can't quite meet their eyes.

Later at Cullen's house, Cullen is tugged down to the beach by a three year old kid. They come across one creature that's had a bad night. Cullen spots Booth out the corner of his eye and Booth spots Cullen and Cullen moves towards him. Tim, Cullen's kid, wants to head for the sea and pulls his father in that direction. He stops and puts his hands on his hips like he's seen the pilots do. 'Dad...Of all the aminals in the ocean, which one's the baddest?'

Cullen tells his kid. 'I don't know, Tim. You'll have to ask them.' Cullen turns to the creature, Booth, and shrugs. 'Runs in the family...' Booth stands up 'Cullen, I'm sorry to bother you.' Booth thinks for a

beat. Segues to the question... 'What about me?'

Cullen turns, they stroll together. 'We can send you back to your squadron with nothing noted on your record except "CNC" -course not completed, no explanation required. Theoretically, it doesn't hurt your career, but people always wonder about things like that.'

Booth hesitates 'Or...' Cullen replies 'Or you can quit. I didn't know either. That's why I told Hacker to prepare your papers.'

Booth looks irritated. Cullen stops at an ice-cream vendor and orders three with a gesture. 'You've already made up your mind.' Cullen replies 'It's no disgrace, kid. That spin was hell. It would wreck anyone's confidence. You could be a good pilot again someday...'

The vendor hands them ice-cream, they take it. 'Here, let me get this. We'll be even.'

Booth reaches into his pocket for change and comes out with a handful and slams them on the counter and starts picking the proper change out. Cullen spots something and reaches for it but unfortunately Booth sees and tries to block it, but Cullen comes up with the Navy Cross. 'Lucky charm.'

But Cullen recognizes it for what it is. 'Sometimes it's luck, but in this case, he earned it... I served with your old man.' Booth sighs 'I know.'

Cullen continues 'VF 51, the Oriskany. You remind me of him. You're just like he was only better...and worse.' Booth snaps 'I'm nothing like him.'

Cullen responds 'You may not think so, but you are.' Booth says 'He was by the book, all the way.'

Still Cullen continues to try to put the point home 'Kid, the plain fact is...you are. I'm not gonna stand here and blow sunshine up your ass. Technically, they absolved you. You and I know what really happened. You pushed it. You are responsible and you'll always carry that. You know what,

I'll carry it too. I should have taken you out of that cockpit. I guess I'm a hopeless romantic... I always try to find something worthwhile in someone's death. It's no trade-off. It's not one for one. What you learned isn't worth his death. It couldn't be. But maybe there is some value in it. I know it's the first thing I've ever seen that's really gotten to you. Now the question is what you will do with it. If it gets you out of flight status...so you don't kill yourself or anybody else...that's good. That's one good thing. You were an accident waiting to happen.'

Booth sighs and asks 'Would you take me back? Would they?' Cullen replies 'I'll have to think about it. I don't know about them. I do know one thing, We've got a lot invested in you. We'd hate to lose it. Even more than those other guys, Naval Aviation needs a very few, very good men.'

Chapter 11: **Loud Rock 'n' Roll**

The graduation ceremonies are in full swing...They consist of informal ribbing, laughing, and a lot of talking with the hands. Every now and then, the name Wendell comes up and a shadow passes across a face. For the most part, they press on, having a good time. Stires shrugs at someone's question and looks around. 'I don't know where he is...' Sully asks Stires 'What are his plans?' Stires snaps 'I don't know.'

Sweets stands proudly holding the Aces High plaque as others congratulate him...Wick looks up as the door opens, Booth is there. He looks uncomfortable, unsure. He sees Sweets with the plaque. Stires moves over to him, brings him in. 'I'm glad.' Zach fist-bumps Booth's shoulder and says 'Good to see you, man.'

One by one, they come over, shake his hand. Hank and Cullen stands there, looking pleased but gruff. Booth walks over, shakes his hand. The party starts to pick up. A real celebration, now.

Hacker enters, a sheaf of messages in his hand. He takes Hank and Cullen aside for a word. Hank nods at him. The group's attention gradually swings onto them. They quiet down instinctively. Hank finally turns to them.

'Gentlemen and women you know how I hate to break up this party before it has a chance to get really out of hand...' he become more serious. '...but there's a major flap on.'

Wick doesn't think she has heard right and yells 'WE'RE BEING CALLED BACK?' Hank replies 'You're on your way. Don't bother going to BOQ. Your bags are packed.'

He hands them all orders. Someone turns the music back up... as they shake hands all around, the music grows, becomes purer as the background voices drop out.

Booth is inside the cockpit wearing his helmet. The stereo headphones from his walkman carry the same music from the party as he sits in the cockpit and stares at the grey water rushing under. He sits in his tomcat on ready 5 alerts. In the back, Stires plays a hand computer game –Jet attack.

Somewhere at sea with the USS Delphinus Hawk, Booth's Tomcat sits waiting for a launch order on the forward catapult. Booth goes over the briefing in his mind...Cullen's voice breaks through the music.

'...Navy oceanographic ship... international waters... fired upon... unknown forces...'

In their full flight gear, sixteen teams of fighter pilots and RIO's are paying very close attention to the Squadron CO, Cullen.

'...by unknown forces...by MiGs. We don't know who they are. All I Know is that it's our ship, and our orders are to escort it out of the area.'

Cullen circles an area on the map. Booth studies his copy of the same map, headings and vectors are pencilled in. 'This is operation "Bullseye". A rescue operation is to begin within the hour. Your mission is to give air support to that rescue. There are MiGs in the area, and tensions are high. If you witness a hostile act you will return fire. We will be covering 360 degrees of the compass by section. Be prepared for anything.'

Cullen is speaking to individual pilots. 'Sweets and Wick, sector two.' He turns to Booth who stands nearby. 'And Booth. You'll back them up, on ready five.' A moment's disappointment passes so fleetingly, you hardly see it. 'Yes, Sir!' As the aircrews file out, tense but excited.

Sweets and Wick fly together at ten thousand feet. Their eyes search the horizon, while Vincent and Zach watch their instruments. 'MUSTANG, THIS IS VOODOO ONE, WE ARE ON STATION.' Both jets streak across the sky.

Suddenly, there are blips on the radar scope. Wick yells 'CONTACT. TWO BOGEYS 20 RIGHT. AT 12 MILES, CLOSING.' Two MiGs are flying low to the deck. Wick yells 'TALLY HO. TWO MIGS AT TWO O'CLOCK LOW.'

The MiGs suddenly pulls a vertical, and streaks straight up. Sweets and Wick both watch carefully. Wick asks 'WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS, BOYS?'Sweets replies 'THEY'RE JUST HASSELING. LET'S WORK THEM OUT OF THE AREA.' Zach adds 'I'VE GOT TWO MORE BOGEYS COMING IN AT FOUR O'CLOCK HIGH.'

Wick replies 'GOT 'EM.'

The four MiGs join together in a box formation and begins to circle the area. Wick yells 'TWO MORE - TWO MORE CONTACTS. 2-7-0 at 10 MILES. WE NEED SOME HELP HERE, MUSTANG.'

Sweets yells 'MUSTANG, WE HAVE FOUR MIGS IN THE AREA OF BULLSEYE. REQUEST YOU LAUNCH THE ALERT 5 FOR SUPPORT.'

At the deck of Delphinus Hawk Booth sits in his Tomcat on the Catapult on ready alert, listening to the message of traffic. He gets a launch order and turns to the LSO. The LSO salutes and Booth salutes, flipping him the bird. The LSO drops to the deck, and Booth is slammed back as the F-14 is fired off the deck and rockets into the sky. 'ROGER, VOODOO.'

The two MiGs cross in a scissor pattern in Wick and Sweets' path, which is a provocation and they join together again and fly level at ten thousand feet. One of the MiGs does a sudden canopy roll. Wick yells 'VERY FANCY!'

Suddenly, there's a boom and a flash! Out of nowhere, Wick's hit. Just that fast and she's hit and goes down. Her F-14 disappears into the clouds. Sweets yells 'WICK! WICK, ACKNOWLEDGE!' Sweets puts his plane nose down and follows her. 'VOODOO ONE, MUSTANG. VOODOO THREE IS HIT. GOING DOWN. WILL ATTEMPT SAR.'

Sweets comes out of the clouds at 1500, nothing but empty water below. 'Do you have them? Did they get out or not?' Vincent is confused 'No contact. I don't know.'

Booth yells 'VOODOO, GHOST RIDER ONE. I'M ON THE WAY. WAIT FOR ME.'

In the sky MiGs and Tomcats circle each other as Vincent cries 'THEY GOT WOLF, THEY GOT WICK. THEY GOT THEM..' Sweets yells 'MUSTANG, GHOST RIDER. PERMISSION TO FIRE.'

'GHOST RIDER, THIS IS MUSTANG. PERMISSION TO FIRE. PERMISSION TO FIRE.'

Sweets yells 'ROGER. ENGAGING. I HAVE THE LEAD.' Stires says 'Let's go! Dive on those bastards!'Booth hesitates, Stires yells 'COME ON, MAN, ENGAGE. THIS IS IT. GET YOUR NOSE IN THERE.' Booth hesitates again. He sees the hornet's nest below; planes all over the sky. Stires yells out 'BANDIT AT SEVEN O'CLOCK LOW-SOLO. TAKE HIM. PULL ON THE GODDAMN STICK, MAN!'

Booth huffs and says 'Okay, okay.' Stires yells 'DON'T TELL ME OKAY. DO IT!' Booth draws a breath, and then forces himself to pull the stick over. The F-14 rolls in hard towards the battle. The MiGs break in every direction as Booth blasts his way through their formation. Something comes up through the clouds. A MiG blasts by as others rolls in and locks onto them.

The MiGs all swarm towards the Tomcats, coming from every direction. Cannon fire erupts from one of the MiGs. Booth yells 'BOOTH'S EMGAGED. HARD LEFT, SWEETS, PADLOCK THE EASTERN SECTION.'

The F-14's execute a left oblique turn in unison. They come down in a section attack with their cannons blazing. From Booth's cockpit, everything looks choppy, the MiGs slides past at incredible speeds. Cannons blast as the planes scramble for position.

They are out-numbered four to two, Booth and Sweets fight defensively. Booth has the angle on a MiG, when Stires spots a missile launch. 'BREAK LEFT! BREAK LEFT! CHAFF! FLARES!' Booth nods 'BREAKING LEFT!'

Booth releases a flare as he takes the F-14 into a hard left. The missile tracks the heat of the flare and sails out of the area, missing the Tomcat and falling toward the sea. Sweets yells 'TWO MIGS ON MY TAIL, BOOTH. I'M DEFENSIVE.'

Booth jerks his stick right and streaks towards Sweets. He cuts off one of the MiGs with cannon fire, driving it down towards the deck. Sweets goes in to vertical and comes around to gain an angle on the other MiG. His RIO is in position to check Booth's rear. Vincent yells 'BOOTH! SIX O'CLOCK!'

Booth turns to look and jerks a hard left. The MiG is on him, cannon blazing. Sweets yo yos inside and cuts the MiG off. Sweets says 'FOX ONE.' He fires a sidewinder. The MiG turns hard and the missile sails away. Vincent yells 'BANDIT, THREE O'OLOCK HIGH!'

Sweets' F-14 is suddenly caught in a hail of cannon fire as a MiG sweeps down from three o'clock. He breaks and dives. The jets streaks across the sky, low to the deck, skimming the surface. Stires yells out 'SWEETS'DEFENSIVE, HELP HIM OUT.'

Booth's F-14 rollways in and intercepts the bogey on Sweets' tail. Booth yells 'REVERSE RIGHT.' Sweets turns right, the MiG bugs and jerks into vertical. Booth swoops after him. Stires yells 'STAY WITH HIM. YOUR SIX IS CLEAR.'

Booth closes, jerking left, right, twisting and turning, staying on his tail. Stires yells out 'ONE ON OUR SIX! BUG OUT! BUG OUT!'

Bullets fly by Booth's F-14 from the MiG on his six. He pulls a hard left, and then takes the plane straight up. There are instructions shouted by Stires, but it is all obscured in the sounds and the fury of the battle. Booth eventually peels over the top and comes down just like a comet, with a series of passes at the MiGs. As they come by, one of the MiGs pulls up, Booth yells 'OKAY, GOING UP. SWEETS, GO HIGH.'

Sweets sees something and yells 'LOOK OUT!' they both look up. A MiG 21 is coming down, belly to them and is close to a mid-air collision. Booth yells out 'JESUS!' He pushes down and the MiG roars by. The whole airplane goes "BOOOMMMM" it's that close. Stires yells out 'OHHHHH SHIT!'

The shock and the air pressure slams them as it goes by, missing them by 4-5 feet. Booth pulls back in, sees a MiG 21 below. It takes off, bugging out. Sweets goes after him. The MiG manoeuvres, jerking hard left, hard right, twisting up, down. Sweets is right in his shadow. They come in hard and low over the sea. He has the MiG in the diamond. Sweets says 'GOOD TONE, FOX ONE' the MiG starts turning. Sweets can't believe it and he yells 'AH NUTS!'

The missile goes by the tail. Sweets shouts 'Son of a bitch!' then his tail comes off, and the airplane goes over, a chute comes out. The MiG explodes into a thousand small pieces. They roar by the MiG pilot hanging in his straps. Vincent yells 'JESUS! HEY SPLASH ONE, SPLASH ONE BANDIT! SPLASH THAT SUCKER!' Booth nods 'HEY, I GOT ONE THE NOSE. COMING DOWN.'

Booth rolls down on him with a good sidewinder tone. The MiG's sense him and they break, one guy down low. Sweets asks 'ON THE NOSE?' Booth nods again and yells 'GOT 'EM. GOT GOOD TONE.' He squeezes the trigger.

The missile starts to go and the vapour trail comes off, the MiG 21 and turns like he's been bounced off from a rubber wall and come around on the missile, he beats it. The missile flies by him. Booth swears and yells 'AH, SHIT! GODDAMN IT!' the MiG comes back turning into him. Stires shouts 'THERE'S ANOTHER ONE UP THERE! AND HE'S GUNNING.' Booth yells back 'I GOT ONE COMING UP.'

He looks back. 30 millimetre tracers go by and they just kind of float in the water. He breaks and hits the airbrakes, the trailing MiG drives through.

Suddenly, out of nowhere another MiG appears, rocketing straight for him. They close at 900 knots—VABOOOM!—they pass nose to nose, canopy to canopy. Both planes pitch straight up, trying for the altitude advantage. Booth says 'Zone 5 burners.'

The F-14 out-climbs the MiG sitting on its tail, full thrusters, with its rockets straight up, away from the planet. Booth has the advantage now and suddenly, his F-14 runs out of energy. Stires is the first to call it 'WE'RE BALLISTIC! OHHHHHH SHIT!'

The plane backs down on itself and backs into its own smoke as it flips over and falls away, he catches it and just regains back control, and he looks up, a second MiG is coming down, right on top of him. It fills the canopy, using his instincts he uses a push to miss him and Booth breaks fast down into him, which is a last ditch manoeuvre and the airplane departs and the roll rates and the pitch rates both combine and it tumbles over the top; the airplane just goes end-over-end. They are being slammed and rattled all over the cockpits, bone-jarring, neck-snapping whips, there's shrieks and screams from the airframe. Stires yells 'OHHH MOTHER!'

Although Booth is strangely calm 'Goddamn-it, Booth, you really are a slow learner. Don't worry, I've got it.'

Stires is too busy getting his teeth rattled. He's helpless and he has no controls, there's nothing he can do but hold on. Stires yells 'DON'T WORRY! YOU'VE GOT IT! ARE YOU CRAZY?'

Booth says 'Roger, I've got it.' The planes gyrations are rattling Stires' helmet off the canopy. Stires still yelling 'YOU'VE GOT IT? GOOD! CAUSE FOR A MINUTE THERE, YOU HAD ME WORRIED.' It yaws and rolls, and starts into a spin. Stires asks now more quietly 'Now have you got it? Have you still got it?' Booth replies 'Yawing right.' Stires says 'I know!' Booth says 'Rudder's left, stick's forward.' Stires yells 'Swell! Passing ten thousand!'

Booth replies 'I've got it - hold on!' Stires replies 'Passing 8. Passing 6. Lock your harness!' Booth doesn't give up and replies 'I can recover. Hold on!'

They're now in a progressive spiral, nose low. The altimeter unwinds, speed picks up and the G forces are forcing them away from the axis of spin, jamming Booth against the instrument panel at the front of the cockpit. Booth asks Stires 'You with me?' Stires, also, is jammed to his panel. 'Right behind you.'

He is now much closer to the centre of the spin and less strongly held. It doesn't do much good; however, he can't control the plane. The only thing he can reach for is the yellow and black loops; the ejection handle. He reaches for it. Stires says 'Speed's up to 150.'

Stires' eyes are wide and the earth grows larger at it rises towards them. G forces tend to flatten them but they've long since lost the MiG. Nobody but an idiot would try to follow them in this manoeuvre. Stires says '5000 feet. Speed two hundred.' Booth whimpers 'Okay.' The earth grows larger. Stires says '4500. Critical point.' And Stires grabs the ejection handle with both hands. Booth yells at him 'NO! NOT AGAIN!' Confused Stires asks 'What are you talking about, we gotta go!' Booth yells again 'I'M NOT LOSING IT AGAIN!'

The jet is standing on its nose, gaining speed, plunging towards the ocean. Stires calmly says to him 'Gotta go, man.' But Booth just says '280, 290, 300 knots.' Stires is now pissed at him '3,000 FEET. WE GOTTA GO, MAN.

3,000 FEET, WE GOTTA GO!' Booth is remaining calm 'Okay, You go. I'm staying with it.' Stires yells 'I'M GONNA GO! THREE...TWO...ONE...'

Then, just as suddenly, as he's about to pull, Booth catches it. The plane responds. They're out of the spin. He gets control. Stires sits there dumbly, hands on the handle. Still not believing...'ONE...ONE...ONE...'

At sea level Booth stops the tumble, and pulls the nose up quickly and the F-14 sweeps into a level flight that is no more than a hundred feet above the deck. He comes up and looks right at Sweets. Sweets is down low. He comes around and has a MiG-21 all over him like a cheap suit. A flick, and a whip and Booth is in perfect position and rolls right in on the MiG. Stires looks like he has just saw Jesus. 'What in the Christ...was that?'

He looks at the MiG target set-up in front of him in awe. Stires asks him 'Did you plan that? Was all that something you planned?' Booth's acquired the target and is all business. Booth yells 'ALL RIGHT, SWEETS. COME HARD STARBOARD, THEN EXTEND TO THE EAST.' Stires is still lividly frazzled. 'Because...if that was... Next time you tell me first.' Sweets replies to Booth 'ROGER, BOOTH.'

Booth breaks down as Sweets zooms up and breaks in and takes the MiG the other way. Booth yo yo's in and comes right up behind the MiG, as the MiG starts acceleration. Booth rolls in on Sweets and the MiG and yells. 'I GOT A WINDER LEFT, BUT NO GOOD TONE ON IT.' Sweets yells back 'I CAN'T LOSE HIM, CAN YOU GET OFF A SHOT?'Booth replies 'SWEETS! I GOT NO TONE. IT MIGHT GET YOU.' Sweets sighs and yells 'WHAT CHOICE DO I HAVE? SHOOT IT.' Booth yells back 'WHEN I SHOOT, YOU BREAK LEFT..3..2' the MiG fires at them. Booth yells 'HE FIRED, BREAK NOW!'

Sweets breaks left and drops the flares. The MiG's missile follows the flares. Booth fires and the missile doesn't twitch, instead it flies right up the tail pipe of the MiG and the canopy flies off. The pilot comes out of it and the MiG blows up. Booth yells 'HE'S OUT! WE GOT HIM!'

The MiG rolls into the ground and they swoop by the pilot, hanging in his straps, he watches them, dumbly. Stires waves. 'What a dope! Maybe they'll give him another plane...and we can shoot him down again.'

Booth and Sweets join up, and light it, stand on their burners and blast straight for the sun. Without warning, a triple roll, as the elation hits him. Stires asks 'What is it? What's wrong?' Stires nervously looks around at his circuit breakers. 'Is there something I should know?' Booth replies 'Just relax. The plane is fine.'

'HELLO MUSTANG, THIS IS BOOTH. I'VE GOT A MESSAGE FOR CULLEN.'

'ROGER, BOOTH. GO AHEAD.' 'TELL CULLEN BOOTH HAS GOOD NEWS AND SOME BAD NEWS. THE GOOD NEWS IS THAT SWEETS GOT A MIG. THE BAD NEWS IS THAT BOOTH GOT TWO!' He looks over at Sweets and says 'I GOTTA HAVE ONE.'

'MUSTANG, THIS IS BOOTH, REQUEST A FLYBY.'

At the primary flight control bridge of the USS Delphinus Hawk, the Air Boss speaks to Booth over the UHF. Jared Booth and the other officers watch and listen. 'NEGATIVE, GHOST RIDER, THE PATTERN'S FULL.'

'MUSTANG, THIS IS GHOST RIDER. REQUEST A FLYBY FOR TWO.'

An officer in the room asks 'Who is that guy?' Jared Booth replies 'Seeley Booth...My Big Brother.' Jared tries to suppress a grin '...Likes to break at 600, 'stead of 300 knots. The Air Boss hates him. One time, he came over the deck at two hundred, shakes the shit out of the bridge. Lifted Harkness right off his feet.'

Booth glances over at Sweets, who gives him a thumbs up. 'BOSS, YOU BETTER CLEAR IT OUT, WE'RE FIVE MINUTES OUT AND WE'RE DOING IT!'

At the flight control bridge, Jared Booth looks out over the water and smiles. Booth asks 'TEN MILES ASTERN, BOSS. HOW ABOUT IT?'

The Air Boss is livid. He clenches the mike. 'MUSTANG TO GHOST RIDER!...'

Just then Jared pipes up. 'Harkness!' Harkness replies 'Yes, Sir, Jared?'

'Give Seeley his flyby.'

Jared looks at the others, and tries to suppress his own grin. He slides into his command chair, looks into the wind. On the back of the chair, there is a clue; his name and rank: RADM. Jared Booth "Commander"

The Air Boss burns, but know he has no choice. Harkness is really pissed off. 'ROGER, GHOST RIDER, YOU'RE CLEAR.'

Sailors line the deck and search the sky. They crane their necks from their battle stations, sweating into the sun, watching for the approach of F-14's. Someone sees it-he points and SHOUTS. The F-14 appears, and every man stands and CHEERS.

Booth and Sweets comes screaming in, 5 feet over the water, throwing up rooster tails behind. They split off and zoom along each side of the carrier, at 100 feet and roll it. It lifts the Air Boss, Harkness right off his feet. The walls warp, and dust sifts from the overhead. The whole towers booms. Harkness shouts 'GODDAMN THAT GUY!'

They break at 500 knots. Sweets is first down over the ramp, waved in. The F-14 comes in a little rocky. It bounces hard but grabs the wire, then jerks to a sudden halt. The sailors CHEER AND APPLAUD, throwing fists of victory into the air, straining to get a look at Sweets as the crew directs his plane off to the side. Opening the canopy, Sweets and Vincent unstrap.

Cullen and the others are there. Guys are climbing up, climbing all over the airplane. They're already painting a MiG on the side, and they're looking at Sweets in awe.

Booth catches the wire, the view slams down toward the deck as the plane arrests, and then comes up...He releases the cockpit and can hear the roar of the crowd...

Booth swings the plane's nose around past Sweets'. Sweets' plane is covered

in colored jerseys as the ground crew pulls him out. Booth's plane swings towards the Pri-Fly Bridge. Pilots in flight suits pour from the deck hatch applauding...

Booth cuts his engines as the ground crew swarms, As Booth and Stires climb down, and they see their wingmen on the deck. Sweets is looking in Booth's direction. His face is inscrutable. Booth gets mobbed, but pushes over to Sweets. They stare at each other for a moment, eye to eye even as they are buffeted by the crowd. Finally, Sweets breaks a grin. 'I guess I owe you one. You're a hell of a flyer.' Sweets can't resist 'You can be my wingman any time.'

Now Sweets laughs. Nobody's ever gonna win on this one. But Sweets smiles at him...It's now a running joke between them.

Sweets and Vincent snap to and proudly salute. Booth hesitates, then returns it. As Sweets and Vincent snap it off, it turns into the pilot's salute, they give them the bird. Booth and Stires laugh and return the compliment.

As they are mobbed by sailors, Booth is elated to see two familiar figures: Wick and Zach turn from their battle damaged tomcat on the forward elevator as it sinks out of sight below decks.

Cullen rushes up, grabs Sweets and Booth in a bear hug and says 'MiG killers! You name it, boy. Sky's the limit. You name it. A medal. Anything you want. Anything.'

Booth grins, turns away from them. He looks out, at the dying sun glinting over the sea. He thinks how beautiful it is out here! Stires grabs him from behind. Booth turns away, considering the options.

Another Tomcat rolls up to park nearby. He looks at the plane. Over the deck loudspeaker, comes the final call to the F-14:

'OKAY, GENTLEMEN. YOU CAN CUT YOUR ENGINES...YOU HAVE ARRIVED...'

Hank, Hacker and others walk out of hangar to watch a wing return.

Suddenly an F-14 breaks, roars in over the field inverted, a hundred feet off the ground. Hacker shouts 'WHO'S THE HELL IS THAT?' Cullen replies 'Three guesses.'

Hacker looks over at Jared Booth, Seeley Booth's younger brother. Who steps out of a staff car, squints up at the swooping plane, turns, barks an order to his driver, jumps in the car and slams the door, the car takes off.

The jet breaks at 500 knots and sets down neatly on the tarmac. The rest of his flight follows in perfect formation. He unbuckles his straps, takes his helmet off. He looks over at the approaching caravan. Stires replies 'I think they know we're here.'

He stands up in the cockpit, gives a snappy salute. 'Why Jared...How really good it is to see you!'

Booth turns away. As he backs down the steps, a jeep screeches up, doors slam open, footsteps. 'Who's in charge here?' Booth says 'I am.' He knows that he's answered automatically, but now it hits him. He knows that voice. He turns to find Brennan with her hands on her hips. He hops down, stands there speechless, grinning happily at her. 'You got your F-14, you got Aces High, you got your MiGs...You're our new Aces High instructor...Now what?'

She laughs. He puts his arms around her. Self-conscious, she pulls away,

a little embarrassed to show this on the flight line. He laughs.

'That's okay. I always look forward to a challenge.' Brennan replies 'Do you know who your Ancestor is John Wilkes Booth.' Booth already knows this of course. Now she laughs back and puts her arms around him. She kisses him and now she doesn't give a damn who sees it.

Run, live to fly; fly to live, Aces High.


End file.
